One Month
by Reda
Summary: Prussia is not one to fall in love. Especially not with a quiet, easily upset weakling who reminds him too much of the Italian that stole his brother's attention. Then again, people change, and when a one-world-government movement starts capturing nations to enforce their ideas, he might just discover that he really does care. PruCan/USUK/GerIta/Spamano
1. Chapter 1

**Author Notes****: **

-This is from a role-play with my sister. We tend to be on the same wavelength on lots of things, so when we started role-playing together we ended up creating something I honestly love to re-read over and over again. It's got humor, romance, drama, epic fight scenes, dramatic relationship stuff, capture, torture, and lots of awesomeness. I hope it comes out in story format as awesome as it was in role-play format. And I hope you enjoy it, too. (I think the hardest part of transferring the story is figuring out which point of view to use, ahh ~)

-This is not AU. They use nation names. And real names. So I'll be referring to them both ways.

-They also all have a cell phone because it is "present" time. Okay? It makes sense. Prussia has a RAZR. If you don't know what that is, then trust me, it makes perfect sense. It used to be known as the best and is still considered by some as the greatest most awesome non-smart-phone. It was the best thing before smart phones. And now tons of people don't even know of its awesomeness. This is why, it is the perfect phone for Prussia. Just sayin'.

-Also. Argh! Pronouns! … That is all.

**Pairings****: **Focused around PruCan but also includes GerIta, USUK, and Spamano.

**Warnings****:**

-There might be occasional "made up history" moments cause I research but suck at it and don't always understand things. Ah hah.

-There will also be random head cannon things which should all be explained within the story.

-It is rated M for a REASON! Granted, any actual serious smut is way later and I'll throw up a nice little warning on the chapter it exists in.

**Summary****: **Prussia is not one to fall in love. Especially not with a quiet, easily upset, weakling that reminds him too much of the Italian that stole his brother's attention. Then again, people change, and when a one-world government movement starts capturing nations to enforce their ideas, he might just discover that he really does care.

~!~

One Month

Chapter 1

~!~

Germany was enjoying his nice, quiet, peaceful night. He was sitting on his couch, dressed in a white button-down shirt and navy slacks, left over from what he had worn to work today. He had a newspaper in his hand, folded over, having been attracted to the story about some political group spreading through all countries, fighting for the idea of a one-world government. A mug of coffee sat on the coffee table in front of him, cooling slowly in the somewhat hot house temperature. Ever since his brother came back from Russia the house had been set to near crazy warm temperatures, and Germany wasn't one to complain about something so small so he let his brother do what he wanted without a word.

With a contented sigh, Germany placed the newspaper on the table and reached for his mug of coffee. Yes. It was nice, quiet, and peaceful in his house. For once. His brother was in the back staying to himself – for once. And Italy -

"Ve ~ Ciao, Germany," came the greeting followed by a pair of hands covering his eyes playfully.

So much for nice, quiet, and peaceful. Not that he was truthfully disappointed. He actually did prefer having Italy in the house.

"Hello, Italy," he responded with a light smile. "What is it this time?"

"Hm, I was just saying hi..." Italy said as he dropped his hands and leaned over to tap a light kiss to Germany's head. "And, well..."

The German pulled his reading glasses off, setting them on the table, and used his other hand to rub at his eyes, using the gesture as a way to hide the light blush that appeared on his face. "Well what?" He asked, having a pretty good idea already what Italy was going to say.

Italy's hands moved down to his chest, sneaking in under the button down shirt, pulling Germany back against the couch with the pressure, which Germany allowed of course, willing to let himself relax around his little Italian. "Well...I'm bored, Germany..."

Before he could respond, another loud, familiar obnoxious voice crashed into the scene. "Hey, West! I got some free tickets to this new underground club. They give out free beer all night long! Wanna come with me?"

As soon as his brother appeared in the room, Germany sprang to his feet, fixing his shirt as quick as he could, as if he could hide the evidence. Putting a hand behind his head, rubbing at the back of his short blond hair, he sent a small shrug toward Italy in a little gesture of apology. "Uh...Yeah...Sure..."

This, of course, did not bode well with his Italian. "But Germany, we were just about to have some fun," he said with a pout before sending a very uncharacteristic glare toward the albino.

Germany glanced between the two of them, finding himself caught between two people he loved very much, each fighting for his attention. "Right. Uhm, bruder? Do you have a ticket for Italy, too?" He doubted Prussia would allow Italy along, but at this point Germany was grasping at straws to try to diffuse the situation before it could explode.

Of course, Prussia wasn't happy to be fighting for attention with Italy, either. "What are _you_ doing here?" He snapped, giving a glare toward the Italian, a real, menacing, heated glare.

Germany groaned, knowing this was not going to end up well.

Still pouting, Italy continued his complaints, eyes more on the floor than actually facing the glare from the ablino. "Don't you have someone _else_ you'd like to take with you? Surely you have a girlfriend or boyfriend or something!"

At this, Germany winced, knowing exactly what his brother's response would be. And with a scoff, Prussia played right into his role. "Keh. No self-respecting German would be caught with just one lover." Germany winced again, almost feeling like those words had been a jab at him of all things. "I lend myself out cause everyone wants some of my awesomeness." The red eyes narrowed. "Besides, ever since that bitch went over to pansy Austria, I've been much more interested in entertaining my little brother. So, again, little Italy...what are you doing here?"

Turning his head back to Italy, Germany watched as his little Italian widened his eyes and started growing red in the face like he was actually angry and upset. "You make yourself sound like such a...a...meretricio!"

Prussia's head tilted to the side and his mouth opened, more than likely about to ask what the hell that meant, seeing as Prussia hated learning other languages.

But Italy wasn't done. He faced Germany, who was shocked to realize that small tears were pricking at the corners of his Italian's eyes. "G-Go ahead, Germany! You obviously have more fun with your brother than with me!" He shouted before stomping his feet and running out, bringing arms up to cover his face.

Germany reached a hand out, part of him knowing this was going to happen. Because it happened a lot now that Prussia was living with him. But, still, he wished he could have done something to stop it from happening again. It was starting to get annoying. He was tired of hurting Italy. He was _really_ tired of his brother hurting Italy.

Feeling his eye twitch, he faced his brother but refused to look at him. "Bruder..." He shook his head, changing his mind. "Not tonight. And don't ever treat him like that again."

To his chagrin, Prussia didn't seem to care at all, shrugging. "Whatever. He's just a weakling anyway. You don't need him." Germany felt his anger start to flare up, having heard the same line from his brother before but hating that opinion of his lover all the same. Before he could snap at him to just leave the house already, Prussia yawned and walked off, pulling out his old RAZR cell phone that surprisingly still worked. "Well, I suppose if you're out, I'll just call Spain or something."

All Germany could think of as his brother walked outside was, _Good riddance._

~!~

Romano was not happy.

Someone might argue that of course he wasn't happy; heck, when was he ever happy? A little voice in his mind muttered something about 'when you're with Spain' but he scowled and pushed that thought away quickly.

No. This was serious. His brother had come to their house, crying, clearly upset. So, of course Romano was not happy. Anything that made his brother upset like this was sure to piss him off. Now the hard part was figuring out _why_ his brother was upset. Besides, it was rather awkward standing here with his brother crying into his shoulder.

"What's wrong, fratello? Did the potato bastard do this? 'Cause I'll march down there right now and make him pay for -"

While he was enjoying his little fantasy of marching down to Germany's house and kicking the door down and causing a ruckus, his brother shook his head. "N-No...! I-It wasn't Germany!"

"Then which bastard was it? And what did he do?"

Before Veneziano could give him an answer, a song started playing from the direction of the living room armchair. _'Don't trust a hoe. Never trust a hoe...'_ Romano felt his eyebrows twitching, caught between answering the cell phone and comforting his brother. Why was he caught between a phone call and his brother? Because of the person calling...

"...fucking tomato bastard..." he murmured.

Which caused Veneziano to sniff and hold back his tears, lifting up from his shirt. "I-It's okay. You can answer it." Then his brother had to give him a smile, an obvious fake smile that made Romano want to kill something.

But the ring tone kept playing as Spain continued to call. So, he sighed and gave in. "It won't be long. I promise." Walking over to the cell phone, he made sure his face looked as angry as possible, even though the only person who could see him was his brother; at least it would help the tone come through his voice. "Hey bastard, bad timing. What do you want?"

And, of course, Spain's voice was way too cheery to fit into the current situation, feeling so out of place right after Romano's tirade. "Ah, lo siento, Lovi, but why is it bad timing? Is something wrong?" Romano felt his hands clench, wanting to scream at him. "Does boss need to beat someone up for you?" Especially after that.

"Veneziano needs me right now, tomato bastard! That potato bastard did something -"

He was interrupted by a tug on his sleeve from his brother. "Eh, no, I told you. Germany didn't do anything."

At the same time as Spain, in his fucking always happy voice, said, "Eh? But Germany's always been so nice to Ita. Can I talk to him?"

"No! He's my brother! I'll talk to him!" Romano spat into the phone before turning angry eyes to his brother. "Then who _was_ it, fratello?"

His brother glanced away, sniffing back tears. "It was Prussia. He keeps trying so hard to keep me from Germany." As Romano tried to process this information, for some reason not having expected the albino bastard to be the cause of his brother's woes, Veneziano turned to face him and started crying again. "Am I too weak for him, Romano?"

"What? Too weak?" Romano clenched his hand into a fist and growled, murder starting to be intently on his mind. "That fucking bastard!"

When Veneziano's only response was to start crying more, Romano dropped his cell phone without actually hanging up and wrapped his arms around his brother, grabbing either of his arms and pulling him back so that he could look into his eyes. "Don't listen to him, fratello. You are not too weak for that potato bastard."

"B-But..."

"No! You listen to me, not that fucking albino bastard, okay?" Romano really had to work not to dig his nails into his brother's arms.

The very idea of someone calling his brother weak made him want to break free and get instant revenge. The idea of a German asshole calling his brother weak. Well, it made his blood boil. He hated the Germans. He especially hated that potato bastard for taking his brother away from him, but he had learned to respect – and maybe even love – how happy his brother was around the blue eyed blond haired muscle man. Gritting his teeth, he nodded. He had to fix this.

"Come on, we're going to get him back," he said.

His brother sniffed and gave a light little smile. "Grazi, Romano."

~!~

Meanwhile, Spain, currently sitting at his kitchen table with the phone up to his ear, smiled wide, enjoying hearing the conversation between the Italian brothers. He loved it when his little Roma put on his big brother attitude and worked so hard to take care of little Italy. It was cute to watch the brotherly bond between the two. They were so different and yet had a strong bond between them. Sometimes, Spain was jealous of that brotherly affection, but then he reminded himself that he had little Romano to call his own, even with all the cute little denials it involved.

It was after a few moments of simply listening in that he noticed the beep, indicating someone else was trying to reach him. "Ah, hold on, Roma, I have another call." Whether or not Romano actually heard or responded, he clicked a button on his cell phone and answered the new person. "Hola, Espana talking."

Surprisingly, he found himself actually frowning at the voice on the other end. "Yo brah! I've got two tickets to this club...Wanna join me?" Without even waiting for a response, the loud German continued. "I just got turned down by West, so I'm kind of needing a pick-me-up. And between you and Francis, you're a lot safer to party with so..."

Shaking his head, even though Prussia wouldn't see, Spain put his chin in his hand and smiled sadly. "Ah, Prussia, no... You were kind of an ass to Ita, so I'm sort of mad at you right now..."

He could almost hear the stumble from the other end, but he could definitely hear the surprise. "Huh? Where'd you hear that?"

"Well, see..."

Before he could answer the question, Prussia interrupted again, probably not even interested in knowing where the information came from in the first place. "I was just trying to have some brother time, seeing as that's been few and far between even with the wall down now and all." He could hear the Prussian grumbling. "That stupid Italian is always taking up West's time..."

After having just experienced a slight jealousy for brotherly love, Spain could almost understand where Prussia was coming from. But beyond brothers, there was something more that could be a higher priority rating. Something that Prussia had yet to really experience for himself. Well, something that he had never _really_ gotten to understand, seeing as the only person the German had loved had turned around and gone to someone else. So explaining love to Gilbert had become impossible.

Still...

"Ah, well, if you actually had a lover you might understand a bit more." He was expecting a growl, or a quick snap back at him. "Once you find that certain special someone, you don't ever leave them."

He was not expecting the Prussian to laugh. "Kesese. Who needs a special someone?" Though a part of that _did_ sound a bit forced. Or did it? It was hard to tell with Prussia. "There can't possibly be someone awesome enough for me!"

Spain just chuckled. "I wouldn't say that. Not only are there so many nations in the world, we also have more time than a normal human to find them."

Prussia just scoffed back at him. "Keh. Well, I challenge you to find someone and I'll prove to you that it's not possible." He actually sounded very proud of himself. "It has to be someone I haven't met and I do think my awesome self has met everyone in Europe and Asia so good luck. Kesesese."

Sitting back, looking up at the ceiling, Spain pondered. "Someone that's not in Europe or Asia, huh?"

"Yup. Like I said, good luck."

Spain grinned. "What about the Americas? Mexico is really cool, you know." He had special ties to Mexico. A lot of history. And he wasn't lying. He thought Mexico could be fun to hang out with, too.

But, apparently, Prussia thought differently. "Mexico? How can he be cool? Half of his people are jumping the border to America, and America is too much of a pansy to enforce border control."

Spain groaned, scratching his head. Thinking of someone to fit with the crazy albino was more difficult than he had originally thought.

"Kesese, see, I told you it would be hard. I'll give you time to think. Call me if you actually come up with someone I've never heard of."

Sitting alone at his kitchen table, Spain found himself staring at the ceiling, still holding his cell phone even as it buzzed in his ear, indicating that Prussia had hung up long ago. "Huh. Well, that actually is hard then." He smiled and pulled his phone away from his ear. "I guess I'll have to ask around."

~!~

_A/N: Well? Thoughts? Comments? Hate mail? Yes, this is a PruCan story, so you should be able to figure out who they come up with. We decided to end the first chapter here even without introducing Canada because, honestly, there's a lot of set up involved before they actually meet. Ah well. Enjoy the GerIta! :)_

_Kairi: I probably shouldn't say anything seeing as to how I know everything that is going to happen... But don't 'cha just want to give Spain and Romano a big hug? They're always so adorable!_


	2. Chapter 2

**Author Notes****: **

-Yes. More GerIta. I promise we get to Canada eventually. It's not my fault; it's just how the role-play worked. Besides, once we get to PruCan, we barely see the others. At least until the adventure really begins.

**Warnings****:**

-This is not a smut chapter. HOWEVER it gets a little, uhm, close. Just so you know. ;)

~!~

One Month

Chapter 2

~!~

Once again on his couch, Germany tried to enjoy the peace and quiet, but he couldn't stop thinking about Italy and Prussia and the problems the two of them were creating for him. He hoped that Italy wouldn't be too upset. After all, how was he supposed to fix his Italian's feelings if Italy never came back to talk to him about it? And talking was usually something Italy was good at.

Germany sighed, reaching out to pet one of his dogs before lying down on the couch. The dogs were mostly asleep or at least being quiet and calm, something he could appreciate. He closed his eyes, feeling sweat forming because the house was still too damn hot. He had stripped down to his undershirt and a pair of sweat pants, but still, it was hot. He had debated turning the air on now that Prussia wasn't in the house, but he had a sinking feeling that Prussia would probably be back soon.

After all, his brother loved to party, but he didn't like to party alone. Not many people liked to party alone, anyway, but Prussia had a stubborn streak to go out and do what he said he was going to do whether or not his friends joined him. Of course, this meant he always returned slightly miffed and complaining, especially if the house had been set back to a nice cool temperature.

Not to mention the fact that a pissed Prussia would end up doing something crazy and cause problems in the town, thereby giving Germany more of a headache. A call from the authorities wondering why his albino not-a-nation-anymore brother was still running around... He hated explaining things then.

The front door opened and Germany sighed again, expecting his brother, only to be pleasantly surprised by the timid voice that reached his ears. "V-Ve...G-Germany...? I-I'm sorry..."

He sprang off the couch, stuttering around his words because he hadn't been expecting his Italian back so soon. "Italy? Wh-what? When did... N-No I..."

Apparently his reaction sent the wrong message to Italy, causing him to flinch back and mutter quiet words. "I-If you want me to leave, I-I understand."

"No! Don't leave!" Germany snapped to his senses quickly, racing over to hold Italy's hand in his own, looking down into his eyes, feeling that damnable light blush form on his face. "Don't leave..." he whispered.

There was a little moment of silence as a light blush sprinkled across Italy's face as well and then he nodded and closed the door, mumbling a barely spoken, "S-si..." After that, Italy started crying, leaning into Germany and hugging tightly to him, listing off all the things he thought was wrong with him. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I'm sorry I can't train well or run far or that I'm not that strong or -"

"Shh," Germany whispered, rubbing at Italy's back as his little Italian clung to him and let out all his worries. "That doesn't matter. None of those really matter, though sometimes I wish you would be better at training, but..." He sighed, shook his head, and held him close. "Don't let what my bruder says bother you. That's not what I think."

At these comforting words, his Italian lifted his head, sniffing and rubbing a tear out of his eye. "You mean it? R-really?"

Germany felt a smile grace his mouth, "Yes, Feli, I mean it." His hands moved up to pat at Italy's hair, the smile caught in a frown as he stared at the tear tracks on Italy's face. "What do I have to do to make you not upset anymore?"

At the question, Italy seemed to grow a smile and a flash in his eyes indicated something else had crossed his mind. "Ve...I can think of one thing..." While Germany stood there, that blush growing on his face, Italy reached up and wrapped his arms around Germany's neck, whispering, "Ti amo."

In an attempt to keep a hold on his composure, Germany closed his eyes, whispering, "Sometimes I think you do that to me on purpose."

"Hm?" Italy tilted his head. "What do you mean, Luddy?"

Feeling his face flush, Germany coughed to clear his throat, feeling his entire body start to fill with a familiar warmth. "Uh...You..."

Grinning, Italy leaned forward, moving to kiss him, "Ve, ti amo..."

Stumbling back, Germany pulled Italy with him as they tumbled back across the couch. He winced slightly as his back hit at an awkward angle, but the pain was quickly covered up when Italy finally managed to connect their lips in a full kiss. Legs tangled together, awkward position, trapped on the couch, a moan from his Italian...the warmth spread incredibly fast, taking control of his judgment. He put a hand underneath Italy's shirt, touching skin as he rubbed and massaged his back, hands almost working on their own as his brain tried to start working.

His brain was warning him. Something about this wasn't a good idea, but he couldn't focus long enough to let his brain explain itself.

All serious thinking was turned off as Italy ran fingers through his hair, messing up the usually clean cut. Germany started working at taking his Italian's shirt off, accidentally snagging the erogenous hair curl along the way, causing a loud moan to escape Feliciano, making both of their faces go red for reasons that weren't because of embarrassment.

Germany did manage to chuckle and whisper, "Sorry," as the shirt came off and his hands started reaching for other annoying articles of clothing. Of course he was fast and efficient; he was German. It was Italy that was the one who knew the art of loving, but still, Germany had ways of making his lover happy.

...If the panting was any indication. "Nnng...G-Germany..."

The sound of the door slamming knocked Germany out of his current happy place, his brain immediately telling him _why_ it had been a bad idea to start things downstairs.

"Hey, West, I'm home! You should've come! It was awesome, except it got boring 'cause I was alone and all and..." His brother. "...oh..."

At the sound of Prussia and the feel of the albino's aura in the room, Italy began shaking in his arms, whispering a trembling, "G-Germany..."

Germany wrapped his arms tightly around his Italian lover, holding him close, trying to offer silent comforting gestures, but his eyes were focused elsewhere. He glared up at his brother, anger snapping before coherent controlled thought could ride in. "Gottverdammt, bruder, not now!"

In answer, Prussia crossed his arms and leaned back against the door, looking just as annoyed. "You could at least go to your room. We do share this house, you know."

Once again, anger spoke before he could think it through. "Technically we don't." He watched Prussia tense. "You've been doing nothing but freeloading ever since your country was dissolved."

He watched his brother clench his hands; he could almost feel the anger permeate the air, but the feel of a trembling Italy on top of him kept his anger up. He would not feel sorry for Prussia now. Even if terrible things had happened to him, it gave the albino no right to be a jerk to others. Sometimes, one just had to be hard.

"So...that's how it is..." Prussia breathed just before his cell phone went off, playing its default ring tone of the Prussian National Anthem, a long dead song that no one really remembered anymore. The albino growled and glared down at his phone but pulled himself off the door and went into the other room to answer the call without saying another word to Germany as he did so.

~!~

Pacing around the kitchen, wanting to kick something but not finding anything worthy of his awesome kick, Prussia instead growled into the phone. "Who is this?"

The guy didn't answer the question; he just started talking. "Hey, dude, Prussia! Spain gave me a call saying you were looking for someone. What do ya think of my bro? Have you even met him yet?"

Prussia clenched his teeth and threw his hands up. "I don't know! Who's your brother?" He didn't really want to be talking about this right now, especially when the guy on the other end of the phone – he figured out it was America just by the English slang - didn't seem to be fazed by his growling at all.

Who the hell was America's brother anyway? Why should he care? He was probably just some nobody like freaking Mexico, overshadowed by the cocky asshole of the West.

A part of Prussia could remember a time when he taught a few tricks to America himself, giving pointers about war and fighting so America could successfully break away from the great Britannia Empire. There were more reasons than one to why he did that, and none of them added up to actually liking the new nation. It had more to do with fucking with Britain than it did with helping America. He _never_ liked America.

"Dude, my bro is like-"

And then it hit him. America had a brother. A brother Prussia had never heard of before. They had actually found someone that he had never met.

Freezing in his place, Prussia felt his eyes blink. "You have a brother?"

"Yeah, dude, his name's Canada and he's right above me!" It took a moment for Prussia to recognize that America was referring to positions on the map. "He's a cool guy too! You might like him!"

...Why was everyone describing possible pairings with him as "cool guys." It was probably all a lie in order to try to impress him. Strangely enough, that didn't piss him off. "Oh. Huh. There's land above you?" Instead, he was kind of put off guard to learn that others were trying hard to impress him...and with the fact that they _actually found someone_.

"Yup! Canada! And I bet he'd just _love_ to meet you, bro!" It was also rather unnerving hearing America refer to him as "bro." He was not friendly with the younger nation. Not at all.

Besides, he didn't _want_ to leave and meet someone new, either. He had tried to set it up so they _wouldn't_ find someone. He had no idea that they actually would.

He groaned. A deal was a deal, though. "All right then." Challenge, met. "Set me up with a plane ticket, seeing as I'm a freeloader now." He grit his teeth around the word, ignoring the way it stabbed at his chest. Such small things didn't bother him. He was too awesome for that. "I'll just be awesome here until someone picks me up to spread my awesomeness to this new corner of the world."

America only laughed. "Cool, bro!" And Prussia really wanted to snap at him for constantly using that friendly term. "I'll send some tickets your way. Oh, and since you're not really a nation anymore, you'll need a passport! Mmkay, bye!"

And just like that the conversation ended. Prussia stared into the darkness, eye twitching slightly, red eyes glaring into the distance. "Not really a nation anymore..." he repeated the words, as if he needed a reminder, as if that knowledge didn't haunt him day in and day out.

Still.

He snapped the cell phone shut and stuffed it in his pocket. "I don't need to be officially recognized to be a nation," he murmured. "I'm fucking Prussia."

Yeah. Saying that made things feel better. It didn't matter what people said or believed. He was still here. That had to mean something, right? He shook his head. It didn't matter. He should focus on other things, like the here and now; he really did need to stop living in the past.

"Now how the hell do I get a passport...whatever that is..."

~!~

An hour or so later, Germany and Italy were sitting up in bed, Italy conveniently sitting in Germany's lap. Not that the German was going to complain. Shirts were off and the blanket was somewhat wrapped around them. But it really was ridiculously hot. Germany made a mental note to change the air conditioner back to what he preferred; his brother had had enough time to adjust and get over such tiny details.

"Ve, Germany, why doesn't Prussia like me at all?"

Germany sighed and leaned his face into Italy's shoulder. "He's just being an older brother. Jealous maybe?" He paused, searching for an easy way to explain his brother's attitude. "Not very different from the way your brother treats me, you know."

To this, Italy sighed. "I guess, but Romano doesn't really mean all that stuff he says. At least I don't think so..."

With a light tap on his leg, Germany made his point. "Well how do you know my bruder means all that he says, then?"

"I guess I don't," Italy murmured, looking down. "Still, what he says is a little harsh..."

To which Germany offered a shrug. "No one really takes him seriously anyway. Most everyone just ignores him, even when he was a nation." As hurtful as that may have been had he said it to his brother, it _was _the truth. "I'll talk to him about it, but he's not one to follow requests or listen to orders, even. The last person he truly listened to is long dead." With his precious Old Fritz gone, Prussia had become a loose cannon, one that had defeated even death. Germany sighed, focusing his attention back on his little Italian. "Besides, Feli, my opinion is all that matters, and I don't think what he said is true."

He watched Italy smile, and then frown. "But what if you realize that it is true? Like, how I'm too weak for you and how you deserve better."

With a frown, Germany pulled his Italian close into a tight hug. "Listen to me, Feli," he said, using Italy's real name on purpose. "I don't deserve anyone; most especially not you. If anything, you are too good for me, understand?" When he felt Italy nod, he continued. "Besides, you have to admit...your best strength in battle is running away, but that just means you need someone to protect you. It's not something to be ashamed of."

He was incredibly proud of himself when Italy cuddled up against him. "Ve, can you say it again, Germany? How much you love me, I mean."

"Ich liebe dich, Feliciano," Germany responded, lifting Italy's face up and leaning over to kiss his eyes before staring into them. "No matter what anyone thinks."

He was quite happy when Italy smiled back at him. "Ti amo, Ludwig." But then tears pricked at those eyes again. "S-sorry," Italy mumbled, wiping them away himself. "I don't know where those came from."

Before Germany could say something else, a loud explosion noise startled both of them. Germany was about to reach for his gun when his brain caught up with his reactions and he realized it had been the sound of an explosion on the television, meaning Prussia had turned the television on and was watching it at an absurdly loud volume...even though he knew there were others in bed, possibly trying to sleep.

Italy even huffed, after recovering from being startled of course. "We really need to find someone for him, Germany." They met eyes again and Italy frowned. "His loneliness is so obvious...I feel kind of bad for him."

Hanging his head, Germany nodded. "Yeah, but I'll go have a talk with him for now." He sighed and stood up, picking Italy up and then placing him on the bed. "Feel free to go to sleep, though. This might take a while."

~!~

Prussia could not decide if he liked this movie or not.

War was always a plus. Explosions were awesome. The random female characters were well developed and looked great on screen. If it had just stuck to those basic things, it could have been a great movie.

However, there were things wrong with it. The characters. Nobody cared about the "sad" stories behind the characters. People died in war. Why was it such a big deal? The characters were too whiny, complaining about having to fight, definitely not Prussian. Of course, no one thought to tell a story around a Prussian these days anyway.

Besides that, the tactics used here were kind of lame and not at all truly accurate. The one thing that bugged him was the fact that all war movies had guns and trenches and explosions for effect. He missed the days of swords – real fighting, in his honest opinion. Which may have been why he had collected so many of Japan's samurai movies. There was something awesome about those, even if American movies had awesome explosions and sex appeal.

Yes. He was watching a movie. Not thinking about his brother. Not thinking about the Italian. And definitely not thinking about how he was going to be leaving to meet some nobody to satisfy a bet.

No. He was enjoying himself. Prussia did not think about such unawesome things. He had food and beer and he was fucking enjoying himself. Alone. Again.

There was no double meaning behind his grin when his brother came into the room, snatching the television remote and turning it off. There was no little flutter of excitement present at the knowledge that he _had_ managed to grab Germany's attention away from that annoying Italian. No, he was Prussia; he did not care about such things.

"Bruder, we need to talk."

Even at Germany's serious tone of voice, Prussia couldn't help but grin. Okay so he was happy to have his brother in the room with him again. Besides, he actually had an important question this time. "Hey, West! This is perfect that you would come down here! I need to ask -"

"Shut it, Bruder!"

He found himself gaping at his brother's tone. That had been the last thing he had expected. West never interrupted him. He'd always listened and eventually come around to Prussia's way of thinking. Except when it came to the Italian. Ah. So that was it. The Italian was turning West against him.

"You've done nothing but rely on myself, and sometimes your friends, to keep you alive." Prussia flinched, not so much from the words themselves as the fact that they were coming from his _brother_.

But he kept his mouth shut and let West continue. "Then, instead of being grateful, you turn around and insult Feliciano." Yes. So it _was_ the Italian's fault. Prussia felt his hands clench, gripping onto the fabric of his pants.

"Now, you may be my bruder, and I respect you if only for that-" Prussia blinked. _If only?_ "-but you will not speak to Italy like that again. Got it?" _Hey, who's the older brother here? You can't- _"And don't you think it's high time you at least attempt to live off yourself?"

Flinching again, Prussia finally decided it was time to shout back. No, he wasn't angry. No, he wasn't upset. Such things did not bother him. "But I..."

Actually, he really was upset. Digging fingers into his legs, teeth grinding against each other, all signs of actually being upset. How _dare_ his brother say those things. "Gottverdamt I raised you!"

How dare his _brother_ say those things. "I protected you when you were just a collection of nation-states and hadn't really gotten to power yet! Even once you became a rightful power all yourself, I fought with you!"

How dare his brother _say_ those things. "I..." The memories came and he had to hold onto his anger to keep different emotions from surfacing against his will, even though he couldn't shout anymore. "I kept Russia from you..." he whispered.

How dare his brother say such _things_. "...And now that my nation is...gone-" No, he would not choke on that word. He could accept it. He had to accept it. "You want to kick me out of the house, too? You find a little pathetic Italian-" Ah, there came the anger. "-that you can protect and that's so sweet and I'm _so_ happy for you. _Honestly, _but..." Sarcasm. He _made_ his voice ooze sarcasm.

Germany whispered a response, actually flinching and stepping back. _Good_. "But what, bruder?"

"_But_ I guess it doesn't really matter," Prussia growled. "America has hooked me up with a plane ticket so I'll be out of the house visiting some new corner of the world, spreading my awesomeness so you can have your special time and forget all about me." He crossed his arms and sat back against the couch. Speaking of leaving surprisingly made him calmer. Maybe he did need to get out of the house. "Of course, seeing as I technically don't exist I need some stupid thing called a passport." Yeah. He was calm. Perfectly calm. "Which I _was_ going to ask for your help but since you're so tired of me..." He was standing up to stretch his legs and because he felt like it – not because he was trying to twist his brother on a guilt trip. No, he would never do that. "I guess I'll figure things out on my own, _bruder_." His hand was on the front door knob before most of his brain realized it, and he found himself blinking at the cool touch on his skin.

"Wait!" He froze at the sound of his brother's voice, the tone having gone a complete different direction. "I'll help you out, just..." Glancing over his shoulder, Prussia sent a narrowed eyed curious look towards West. "Stay a little while longer." Of course, West wasn't looking at him, apparently ashamed for everything he had said.

_Good. I win again_.

Feeling proud of himself, Prussia grinned and turned around. "Great! So do you know what the hell a passport is?"

"Ja," Germany said, coming off relaxed and calm now that Prussia had put on his normal grin. "It's something that most people need in order to leave their home countries." Prussia blinked. "But, seeing as to how we are nations, we have a free ride to whatever nation we need to visit. That's why you don't know about it." _More like nobody needed such things in the good days._

He nodded and crossed his arms, leaning back against the door. "So, how do I get one?"

When Germany took a deep breath, Prussia knew he had made an error in asking that question. "Well first you need to talk to-" Yup. Time to completely tune him out. There was no way he would remember any of this.

As his brother continued, Prussia shook his head and eventually laughed. "Yeah...Why don't you just go with me into town tomorrow? We can have a day just the two of us and tonight we should go party and drink to commemorate the occasion!" No, he was not getting excited and hopeful. He was always in a good mood. Why should he get excited over something, over such a small thing?

He was most definitely not anymore happy than he was before when West nodded. "Yeah, that seems fair. I'll have to tell Feliciano."

And of course, the excitement deflated away as soon as the Italian was mentioned. He gritted his teeth. Always with the Italian. "Oh. Him." With a sigh, he glanced to the side, frowning. "West, can I ask you something?" Without really giving his brother a chance to respond, he continued. "Why an Italian? You two have nothing in common. How the hell can you possibly be satisfied or happy?"

His brother sighed. "I'm not sure, really. In fact, it took me long enough as it was to understand that myself." Prussia felt his stomach twist at the look in his brother's eyes, at the smile and the gazing off into the distance as if thinking about a special lover. "It's almost as if we were bound by something years before we even met."

Yeah. That sentence made the sick feeling worse. He held his hands up and stuck his tongue out. "Okay okay, you're killing me with the sappiness. Ugh, remind me not to ask _that_ again." He turned away, thinking of something else – or someone else, scratching at his cheek with one finger as he disappeared into a different time and place himself. "I'm too awesome for sappy love anyway."

He missed his brother's light smile. "Ja, ja, but I'll answer it whenever you do ask."

~!~

_A/N: I can't decide if I want to hug Prussia or Germany – or even Italy – at this point. Ah~ I should just hug them all. Lord knows, they'll need it. _

_Kairi: *cough * Bound by something long before you met, Germany? *coughHolyRomanEmpirecough * Yes. Now, write more dangit!_

_Review Replies:_

_-d'aw: Hehe. Prussia is Prussia. A jealous Prussia has an adorableness to it and you know it!~_

_-Anime-vocaliod-lover: Thank you! But you can't wait for what? *blink * I think your review got cut off with an exclamation point? (Seen it happen before ;P)_

_-brattyteenagewerewolf: *squee * I'm so happy that you came over to my corner of the woods to read one of my stories; (I think my sister just recommends it because she's such a big part of it, being my role-play buddy and all lol). I'm glad to hear it's transitioning well! Yay! You made my day; you have no idea, lol!_

_-Hyper4Hetalia: I'm glad it seems cute; I'm kind of known for my "fluffy-ness" in the One Piece fanfiction I write; though this story should go through several different stages; thanks for the review :)_


	3. Chapter 3

**Author Notes****: **

-I never update this quickly. Oh right. Summer. And I don't have to worry about dialogue. And I'm posting this before my sister betas it. Ah hah.

-Yay! Finally! Canada! Whoo! (Don't kill me – I'm writing in Canada's point of view for the first time; I wasn't even the one to role-play him!)

-Prussia _might _come off as a bit of an ass. Hey, I was just trying to play to his character! Totally see him as saying things before thinking and not always understanding the double-meanings behind what he says. Also! I make him wear what I want! And it's always casual jeans and T-shirts that I've either seen him drawn in or think he would wear. (lol me~)

-Oh! I forgot to say I like to have them speak in different languages WITHOUT actually writing it out. I do this in my original fantasy stories where there's different languages, so I'll do it here too. (So-and-so said "blah blah blah" in French – as an example of what I mean). It's a lot easier to say they're speaking in other languages than it is to translate a whole string of phrases where the majority of your readers probably have to look at your translated footnotes. Granted, quick easy phrases are great and fun and used a lot. (ie: "I love you") And sometimes, it's interesting to have one character speak in a language, have the other have no idea what he just said, and yet you, the reader, get to know everything! Just a bit of my personal taste and technique coming out. ;) (Besides, there's no way I'm pulling up an online translator when those things can't be 100% trusted and there's also no way I'm going to know every language in the world. Also, in my little choice phrases, if there's a misplaced/misspelled phrase and _you_ know better, please, let me know!)

~!~

One Month

Chapter 3

~!~

It was late in the evening and a nice cool temperature, perfect for autumn, when Canada pulled up to the airport. He wasn't sure what to expect or really why he had agreed to America's demand. Probably because things had been set up whether or not he agreed, like usual. America was so hasty. He had barely asked for Canada's permission before setting this latest attempt up. It was like his brother was as obsessed as a middle school girl with hooking him up. No questions about what he thought of meeting _Prussia_ of all people.

...What _did_ he think about meeting Prussia?

The ex-nation was a bit of an enigma. Canada had only heard stories about the albino; sure, he had researched the history of the nation – because Canada always made sure to be on top of his historical knowledge – but he had never really been interested enough to look into the nation representative himself. He hadn't really gotten to see Prussia at world meetings or anything, either, seeing as the albino wasn't a country anymore and didn't have a true place at their conference meetings. Heck, from what he had heard about the rowdy albino, Prussia was probably glad to be excluded from such things.

Though it was curious. To be without a nation to call his own and still running around. Weren't they supposed to die if their nation disappeared? Weren't they supposed to disappear as well? Had the split of Germany created a loophole for Prussia? Hmm...perhaps. But the wall had been down for over twenty years and still Prussia lived.

Yes, Canada decided, he was curious. Maybe that was why he had agreed to this set up. Even though he had been sure that America had once told him to stay away from Prussia, and now America was hooking him up with the ex-nation. Rolling his eyes at his brother's inconsistency, Canada parked his car and made his way into the main building.

The moment he stepped through the doors, he got a curious glance from the security guards; they were among the few who knew his real identity.

"Sir, why...?"

Glancing around to make sure no one else had noticed the special attention, Canada hushed the guard and then smiled. It _was_ important to keep their real identities a secret. America had worshiped the idea, saying it made him feel even more like a hero. Canada just accepted the practicality of the decision, seeing as certain anarchist and one-world-government political movements were growing in power and numbers lately.

"I'm here to pick someone up. He should be arriving from Germany," he smiled again, feeling comfortable with these security guards, seeing as he saw them all the time when making flights to world meetings. "I don't actually have the flight number, though, so do you think you could-?"

He didn't need to finish the question. They understood immediately and gave him directions to the waiting area of the flight he wanted. Apparently, the plane had arrived earlier than its scheduled time, so it was already starting to unload. With a thankful, quick wave to the guards, Canada started walking to his destination, in quick, rushed steps, afraid that he would miss the Prussian and the crazy man would start causing problems – if America's descriptions of the man's attitude were anything to go by.

As he walked the crowd grew thicker, causing him to bite his lip, fighting his nervousness. He really didn't like crowds of people, especially when they started clustering around him, most not even noticing he existed. Granted, people in crowded places tended to be intent on their destination and care little for those around them. But Canada was so used to being invisible to other nations that people bumping into him and ignoring him also brought memories of the fact that no one listened to him, either.

Not even his brother, who was responsible for setting up this meeting without even asking for Canada's input.

Fighting a slight panic from the crowd closing in on him, he started squeezing his way through. One random person stepped on his foot, causing him to wince but turn around and apologize to them for being in the way, getting no recognition as the lady just kept on walking. Leaning down, staring at the floor, he tried to focus on walking without stumbling into people. Looking at the floor actually helped with that because he could watch his feet and everyone else's feet as they traveled along the blue carpeted floor. Granted, he couldn't do that forever. How was he supposed to find the Prussian if he wasn't looking?

With a grimace, Canada held his head up, eyes scanning the crowd, pausing in his walking as he did so. Which caused someone to knock into him from behind. And led to him falling forward, tripping over his own feet. He managed to keep his balance, staring again at the floor, probably looking like a clumsy fool as he did so, not that he expected anyone to notice.

Once he had control again, he looked up, eyes glancing over but not really staring hard at the man in front of him. He did notice the silver chains threaded into the jean belt loops and pockets, a somewhat old fashion style for punk kids. And he had to admit that the black shirt caught his attention. Any shirt with words on it tended to catch his attention. He spent enough time to stare and read: "People don't know 'bout my chick" before putting a hand behind his head and closing his eyes with a little apologetic laugh.

"Oh, s-sorry, I'm really clumsy." Usually people that wore shirts about 'chicks' weren't to be messed with. And he had noticed the hat sitting backwards on silver hair. If he were to judge by the outfit alone, this guy was probably not someone to make mad.

For once glad to be so easily ignored, Canada sighed and turned around, scanning the crowd. Where could he be? What did he – He froze, still speaking in French when he muttered to himself. "I wish Al I had told me what he looked like at least." This was going to really be a pain in the ass. How was he supposed to get Prussia's attention? Yell for it? Would he notice? Heck, would anyone?

He grimaced again and started to walk, wondering how the hell he was going to find Prussia in this busy airport, when a hand grabbed his arm, freezing him in place. And then a voice said something in German.

He yelped when he realized it was the punk-style dressed man he had almost run into. This was definitely not good. "U-Uhm. G-German..." Most definitely not good. He gulped and switched into English, his eyes refusing to glance up to look at the intimidating man. "I-I'm sorry. I don't speak German. Y-You wouldn't happen to speak English, would you?"

The man let go of his arm and put his hand at his hip, the other holding a single carry-on bag slung over his shoulder. He did not appear happy, but he switched into English at Canada's request easily enough. "Keh. English. Our nice universal language. Should've been Prussian if you ask me."

Only partially listening, Canada nodded, "I agree." _Do I really?_ Trying to ignore the daunting presence before him, he started glancing around, determined not to miss the ex-nation. Still, he had to talk back; now that someone scary had noticed him, he didn't want to make them upset. "I actually like the German language but never got around to learning it." He yelped, wondering if that had been the right thing to say. "S-sorry! You probably don't care..."

_Where could he be? Why do I have to be stuck here? Am I going to miss him? Ah, dang it, Al, why couldn't you give me an actual description of what he **looks** like and not just what he **acts** like?_

"You agree?" The stranger muttered, his voice almost shocked before he laughed. "Of course you agree! My language is awesome enough to spread around the whole world!" The man's feet shifted, coming closer to Canada, making him take a step back. "Sometimes I wonder if it was a good idea to help that American brat after all. Such a fucking backstabber..." This last was whispered to where Canada could hardly hear it. But something clicked in his brain at the mention of helping America... "So, who're you looking for?"

Canada blinked and stared up at the man, seriously looking at him this time. White hair. Red eyes. Yes, definitely red eyes. Prussia _had_ been described as albino. Canada almost smacked himself. He should have known right from the beginning. God, this was going to be embarrassing. "I-I think I was looking for you," he said with as much of a smile as he could manage. "Gilbert Be..." he paused before trying again, "Beilsch..." He sighed at the German name, hanging his shoulders. "Sorry, I still can't pronounce that..."

He was expecting Gilbert to be annoyed at someone not knowing how to pronounce his name; the ex-nation was known for being a little bit egotistical, a description that had to be taken seriously seeing as it had come from America of all people. If this man really was Prussia. But, really, how many albinos did one meet, anyway?

To his relief, Prussia just laughed. "Kesesese. Beilschmidt. A good German name." Prussia shrugged. "I'd rather be known by...uh...my nation, but rules are rules. I don't usually care for these name rules, either, but West seemed to take it real seriously, so-" he shrugged again, still grinning as he looked down at Canada.

Not knowing what else to say to that, Canada just shrugged and turned around, hoping to have the Prussian follow him. "Well, I guess you're going to be staying with me for a while." He blinked when Gilbert appeared by his side, carrying that bag over his shoulder again and still grinning.

A part of him wondered how much luggage the Prussian would have with him. How much does an ex-nation have? Since Prussia wouldn't have to worry about work duties while visiting, like everyone else, would there be more or less? Did he have any strange pastimes to keep him entertained or was he a television junky like America?

As they came to the luggage pick up area and started waiting for the machine to start up, Canada felt the awkward silence growing. He hadn't expected Prussia to be quiet of all things... But it did give him a chance to stare at the albino, who seemed to be in another place, barely paying attention.

Feeling like it was his fault, Canada sighed. "I'm sorry about all this." He blushed when the red eyes focused in on him. "It's just that once Al gets an idea in his head he won't stop until it happens." Unable to face those eyes, he glanced away, putting a hand behind his neck. "And he's been trying to hook me up with everyone lately."

To his surprise, Prussia yawned, reminding Canada that the ex-nation had probably had a long trip and was more than likely going to experience date lag, having flown across the International Date Line. "At least you aren't the one getting kicked out of the house." The luggage machine suddenly turned on, the loud warning alarms going off as it started rolling luggage out on the conveyor belts. Prussia's eyes moved to it to watch for his things, but he didn't stop talking. "I promised West a month." He shrugged, "He'll probably be crying to have me back before then, at least as soon as that wimpy Italian drives him crazy."

Canada flinched, a gesture that went unnoticed by the albino as Prussia caught eye of his stuff and moved to go grab it before it could disappear back into the storage area. Watching him, Canada had to remind himself that of _course_ nobody would willingly come to visit him. Of _course_ there was more to this setup than he had been allowed to believe. Prussia didn't _want_ to be here. Why had he expected differently?

...Why did he care?

Before he could think more on it, Prussia showed back up in front of him, carrying two duffel bags in each hand and the smaller carry-on actually situated on his back as it was intended. Canada tried to keep his eyes from widening at the amount of luggage an ex-nation could have. What did he do, bring everything he owned? He mentally smacked himself for even jumping to conclusions that simply four bags would be enough to hold all of Prussia's possessions. Though a part of him _did_ believe that, for whatever reason.

"Uhm...Right...so..." Clearing his throat, Canada turned around, saying, "My car is this wa-" when he got interrupted by falling into a rather large woman, causing him to bounce backward and fall to the ground, completely losing his balance at the unexpected collision.

To make it worse, the woman started complaining at him in loud, obnoxious French. He sighed, standing up and brushing himself off, getting ready to apologize and go about his business...but Gilbert apparently had a different idea.

Dropping his bags, Prussia started yelling back, in German of all things. Canada wasn't even sure the woman knew what Gilbert was saying. Heck, Canada didn't understand most of it. He _did_ catch the curses, though. Especially when they started flowing out of the woman's mouth, too. Of course, the two of them were speaking in their native languages, and more than likely neither one understood the other.

But it was getting to be a bit of a terrible commotion so Canada put his hands up, ready to step between the two – or at least grab Prussia and pull him back, finding this scene reminiscent of his visits with America.

To his surprise, the security guards had latched on to the opportunity to be useful and had their hands on the albino, obviously the more threatening of the pair, pulling him back and cuffing his hands behind his back surprisingly quickly. He was kind of amazed to see Gilbert allow it. Honestly, Canada only allowed this to even happen because he was caught in a state of shock. Did they not know...?

Oh. Right. Prussia didn't technically exist anymore. How was any mortal supposed to recognize him at all?

With a sigh, he gave a quick apology to the woman, who huffed and went about her business, probably happy to see the angry German being taken care of and completely forgetting that it was Canada who had bumped into her in the first place. Then he went over to where the security guards were holding Prussia, reaching a hand out to get their attention.

"E-Excuse me, but I'll take care of him," he said, blinking in confusion when Prussia chuckled.

Thankfully, one of the security guards was the same one from earlier who instantly recognized him. Glancing between the albino and Canada, the man raised his eyebrows. "This is the German you were waiting for?"

With Prussia laughing behind his wide grin, Canada sighed, fighting the urge to slam his palm into his face. This was _not_ what he had expected. "Sadly, yes."

At least the Prussian didn't seem to be angry at the guards; actually, he seemed to be _enjoying_ the special attention, as if he craved it. Heck, the man _frowned_ when the guards released him, rubbing at his wrists where the cuffs had been, almost in a habitual gesture. "Well, that was fun," Prussia said as they walked away, turning around to stick his tongue out at the guards...like a child of all things.

Canada rolled his eyes. "That was unnecessary."

As Prussia grabbed his bags from the floor, he turned a confused gaze on Canada. "Unnecessary? Of course it was necessary! You can't let one of _them_ treat you like that!" Canada was glad that the people in the area were keeping their distance, even if it had come at the price of Prussia making a commotion within the first few minutes of being here. "They should respect you! You're in charge here, aren't you?"

He found himself staring at the albino with wide eyes. "One of...'them'...?"

"Yeah, you know," Prussia continued, lowering his voice and leaning down to whisper in Canada's ear. "...the mortals, the non-nations. We've always been above them," he scoffed, standing back up. "At least where I come from."

With another sigh and a shake of the head, Canada clicked his tongue between his teeth. "I see. Well, it's not like that anymore." He turned around, walking outside with Prussia following close behind for a few steps before walking side-by-side with him again. "Everyone's equal, seeing as they don't know who we are anymore, that is."

There was silence from the albino. Well, for a moment. "When did everything become some giant secret?"

Arriving at his car, Canada pulled the keys out of his red hoodie pocket and clicked open the trunk before opening the passenger side. "Honestly, I'm not so sure," he said as he helped Gilbert toss his things in the trunk space. "And I'm not sure I ever want it to go back."

He wasn't surprised when Prussia scoffed and disagreed with him. "Keh. Things were much better in the times of monarchies and much more exciting with all the battles."

Canada could have sworn those eyes lit up at the very mention of older days, or maybe it was the idea of war. But then those red eyes narrowed and seemed to almost glare in his direction. "What awesome things did you do in this corner of the world? Why are the countries so big over here? Didn't you fight with anyone?" His voice drifted and then came back with wide eyes as if a new idea had just crossed his mind. "Please tell me you know how to fight..."

For some reason, Canada felt embarrassed at the answer he had to give. "Uh, well," he laughed sheepishly. "I kind of forgot." He looked away so he didn't have to face the disappointment in those eyes. "I fought a little with Al after he became independent, but I've really been in peace since. Unless you count the World Wars, but we didn't come in until late in that either."

Dead silence.

Like he had just insulted him or something.

Canada couldn't make himself look at the albino, feeling the dissatisfaction even with their distance. Well, his research had proven that Prussians were always eager for battle. It made sense for the nation representative to love it so much, to judge people or nations by their battle or war history. Of course that left Canada with nothing to impress the ex-nation.

"This is not gonna work..."

He blinked. "What do you mean? Do you mean the car?" He honestly had no idea what Prussia meant by that statement, not seeing where the conversation of wars had led to that...

Prussia's palm met his face. "No, I'm talking about..."

The red-eyed man sighed and got into the car without continuing the sentence. Not wanting him to wait too long, Canada slammed the trunk closed and raced to the driver's side, quickly opening the door and falling into his own seat. He opened his mouth, intending to ask about something else to change the subject, but Prussia beat him to it.

And he wasn't changing the subject. "We're like complete opposites. This is month is going to be really interesting."

Biting his lip and staring at his lap, Canada set the key into the ignition and started it up. "Well, I understand if you want to go home."

He wasn't going to admit that he was a little hurt even having to offer that option. Maybe he had been looking forward to this meeting after all. Maybe he had been excited at the prospect of meeting someone new, someone with such a great history, someone who stood out, someone who...well, cared enough to come visit. But apparently that wasn't why Prussia had come to visit. It was all a bet or a game. What else would it be?

He took a breath and focused on driving. "I never exactly asked America to try hooking me up with someone."

To his surprise – and even delight – Prussia did not ask to leave. He actually crossed his arms stubbornly and planted himself comfortably in the seat, as comfortably as one could be in a car. "Nope. Not going anywhere. I made a promise, and the Awesome Me always keeps his promises."

Canada sighed and nodded. "All right."

He wasn't sure what was going to happen in this month, but he had to admit...he was about as hopeful as Prussia. They _did_ seem to be exact opposites. Was it going to be completely awkward? Instead of doing things together, would it be like having a child over who wanted to sulk in his room all day? Heck, would they even eat together or would Prussia demand to be left alone?

Of all the things he had expected...this had not been one of them.

Prussia was right.

This was going to be interesting.

~!~

_A/N: Prussia's rant at the random woman character in the airport was actually written out in the role-play. I think it's quite awesomely hilarious, too, but sadly, since I decided to put this whole-freaking-section in Canada's point-of-view, and we decided that Canada doesn't really understand German...well...all we get is "Prussia = angry German" Ah well ~ I also added a bit to that scene to flesh it out and put some conflict into the airport scene (otherwise it's just herp-derp-walking-talking-luggage-herp-derp). So. Yeah. First time writing Canada! Ever! I don't ever roleplay as him either, so yes, first time for everything._

_Kairi does not get to comment this time. She was sleeping and I was impatient to update. Ah hah ~_

_Review Replies:_

_brattyteenagewerewolf: I wish they were real so I could hug them D: Hugging the computer just isn't the same...lol..._

_Inka-chan: Ah no! Not the frying pan! Here! I gave you Canada! Don't hurt me ah ~ (Seriously, though, thanks for the review ^_^ Glad you're enjoying it!) _

_~~ Thanks for all the alerts/favorites/reviews; they really do make me get all giddy and silly happy, not to mention the motivation factor to write more~~_

_~Reda_


	4. Chapter 4

**Author Notes****: **

- Last chapter had Canada's point of view, this one gets Prussia's. At least for a while. It starts with a dream. A very PruHun dream. Sorry, but, we feel like Prussia and Hungary were maybe kinda sorta almost a couple at one point and she ran off to Austria for various reasons...and Prussia is probably still sore about the whole ordeal. So yeah. ;P

- Also, you have to realize that at this point in the roleplay, I was not convinced that Prussia/Canada worked as a couple. Hence there are tons of Prussia/Hungary references. This will eventually go away.

- Pancakes, fluffy, and funny moments ahead!

~!~

One Month

Chapter 4

~!~

As the conversation went dead and the music on the radio stayed quiet, Prussia found himself slowly drifting away into a sleep his body absolutely required. A few hours on a jet plane to fly halfway around the world. He should be tired.

Besides, it wasn't like he could stay awake when the Canadian was being so godawful boring.

This month was going to suck.

~!~

_It was springtime. _

_There were flowers blooming all across the field. Different shades of wildflowers, creating a mass of colors on the ground to match the colors of the calm sunset. It was perfect. It reminded him of their first kiss in this same field of flowers ages ago; he only had to hope that she remembered, too. _

_Hungary laughed and looked over to him. "Well, that was fun."_

_He laughed and threw his arms up above his head. "Yup." It was a bit out of character for him to agree with a single word, but he honestly couldn't think of anything else to say._

_They had just spent time running around the field...with her chasing him, of course. Now, he had forgotten what he had done to make her mad enough to chase him, but once that frying pan of hers had connected to his face there had been no reason to remember why. The whole point had been to get her exhausted enough to not hit him when it came time to take things seriously. _

_And now it was time to take things seriously._

_Laying on their backs, looking up at the sunset, he tried to think of something to say, some easy way to bring up what he wanted. He sat up on his side and looked over at her as she stared at the sky, smiling that beautiful smile of hers. Usually he was not one to have problems with words. For once, he was plain dumbfounded, finding that no words were easily passing his lips and he was more nervous than he could ever remember._

"_You're being awfully quiet," Hungary commented._

_He blushed before he could control it, finding himself surprised at how well she knew him. Well, she wouldn't be expecting this. Forcing himself to act instead of over-thinking everything, he stood up, grabbing her hands and making her stand up with him._

"_Gil?"_

_Swallowing the nerves, he bent down on one knee amid the flowers, inhaling their sweet scent and imagining it among her hair. He could hear her intake of breath quite clearly. Good. He **had** surprised her. _

_He reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring, specially designed, specially made just for her. "Elizaveta...Lizzy..."_

"_Oh, Gil, why did you-"_

_He ignored the question on her lips, focusing instead on his name. "Will you-"_

~!~

The dream was suddenly interrupted by the slam of a car door, making him jump and instinctively reach up to rub his cheek where Hungary had smacked him across the face in the dream – as she had done in reality. He grumbled something about insensitive bitches and proceeded to look around the car to realize he had been left sleeping in the passenger seat with a baby polar bear staring at him from the driver's side.

Eyebrow twitching, he opened the car door, grabbed his bags, and made his way inside the beige colored two story house. The concrete walkway and steps complete with the rather large porch setting made everything look more homey than he had imagined for a little nobody country. But, he wasn't one to complain about such small things.

Throwing the front door open, he dropped his stuff to the side and grinned. "Hey, where's the beer?" It _had_ been an awful long time since his last dip in the alcohol.

Canada came walking down the stairs situated right in front of the door just in time to answer Prussia's important question. "Uhm, I don't really have any, eh. I could go buy you some, though." The Canadian stopped at the bottom of the staircase and stared up at Prussia's wide eyed amazement. "Then again, Al did come over a few days ago, so there might be some stashed in the fridge."

"You don't have beer?" Prussia was not amused.

Apparently his face and tone of voice was enough to make the Canadian yelp slightly and flinch back. "I-I said there was some in the fridge!"

"Oh, okay then," Prussia huffed as a terrible thought crossed his mind. America had been over. America had left beer in Canada's fridge. American beer was... "What kind is it?"

Canada looked at him blankly before shrugging. "Uhm. I'm not sure. Bud lite maybe?"

Prussia could almost feel his entire face twitch at the name of the beer. "Dear Gott, no." He shuddered at the thought of stooping down low enough to drink America's piss water. "Are there any clubs around here that sell good German beer?" He had to hope and pray now. This month would be nothing but horrendous if he didn't have his alcohol – his _good_ alcohol.

"Sorry, I don't frequent any of the clubs."

He could feel his prayers going...

"Besides, America always goes out of his way to keep me away from alcohol."

...going...

"Not really sure why though..."

...gone.

Panic began to set in. "Keep you away from alcohol. Never go to clubs." Yeah, he was definitely about to panic. "What are we supposed to drink? How do you _live_?"

The matter was not helped by Canada chuckling at him, as if he were making a big deal over nothing. "Um, usually I read or go for a walk. It's all right though. Since you're stuck here for a month, I'll go buy you some."

He lifted up at those words. "R-Really?" Yes, mood lifted. Everything would be fine now. He was promised beer. "All right, Canada! Let's go forth and search this vacant land for somewhere fitting to party! Even when things are hopeless, I can always find the best spot, kesese..."

He barely saw Canada shake his head. "You're so much like Al, I swear..." Prussia frowned at that comment, then shrugged and decided to ignore it. He was _nothing _like America; how could Canada even suggest such a thing? "W-Wait-" With a blink, he looked up at the confused stare. "You want me to go with you?"

Prussia tilted his head to the side at first, then grinned and laughed. "Of course! I hate partying by myself, even though I'm awesome enough that it doesn't matter." He crossed his arms. "What would be the point of coming here if you weren't going to accompany me on my awesome journey through this new land?"

"Ah, well, I guess that makes sense." Canada put a finger to his mouth. "So, what do I wear? And when do you usually go to things like that?"

Now that was a question he hadn't expected. "Hm. Late at night is usually best." He shrugged. "And I never think about what I'm wearing. What kinda question...?" He mumbled the last, more to himself than actually to the other nation.

When Canada blushed and looked down, muttering a "Sorry," Prussia blinked.

"Sorry? What for?"

"...for asking such a stupid question."

Yeah. He blinked again. He was definitely not used to this kind of insecurity from someone. He was _not_ used to hanging out with people who had insecurities. Again, he couldn't help but think how incredibly awkwardly boring this month was going to be.

"It wasn't stupid. I just never think of what I'm wearing because no matter what it is, it's awesome because I'm wearing it." True fact. Everything Prussia wore was awesome. He had yet to find something that didn't look good on him. Though he had been told certain clothes looked _better_, nothing as of yet had looked _bad_. Looking over Canada, trailing his eyes up the nation's body, he tried to think of what would look best on the quiet man. "You could probably do the same thing, actually. So it doesn't matter."

"Oh, uhm...do you really think so?"

Yes. Even as his brain caught up with his mouth, he agreed with that statement. The blond-haired blue-eyed...or was that violet? It was hard to tell in this light and his eyes were behind a pair of glasses, too, making it even more difficult to see their true color. Either way, Canada was definitely good looking. Even if their personalities were complete opposites, at least he could share a month with someone who was easy on the eyes.

"Kesese, yes of course. I mean, you definitely have the looks." This time he realized what he was saying. He snapped his mouth closed and felt his face heat up. Embarrassment. That was new to him. Maybe it was the way Canada was blushing back at him instead of laughing, instead of accepting it like any other compliment. Prussia held his breath. He needed to get out of here. Evasive action from awkward moment. "Bathroom emergency!" Best. Excuse. Ever.

Picking a random direction, he charged, rushing away so fast he could almost hear the old cartoon style fwoosh sound. He froze at the sound of the quiet Canadian. "Uh...Bathroom's the other room."

_Damn. Very un-awesome. _

Ignoring the fact that he just made a fool out of himself – after all, why should he care? He did that all the time. - Prussia turned around and rushed back the other way, speeding by Canada without looking toward him at all. Nope. There was no quick glance as he passed. Definitely not.

When he made it to the bathroom, he slammed the door and leaned over the sink to stare at the mirror, asking himself all kinds of questions. What the fuck was he doing? Why did he say that? True or not, it just wasn't something he spilled so easily. He was usually very guarded about his feelings; comments about looks were usually reserved for teasing purposes – or insults. Not for serious purposes. Certainly not for someone who had no interest in war or beer. So, why the hell was his heart beating fast? Why was there a strange but oddly familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach?

...Why did he run?

~!~

Canada could only blink after the ex-nation, not sure what to make of the compliment or the reaction. For a moment, he almost believed that the albino might be happy here after all, but he shook his head and mumbled, "No, he clearly doesn't want to be here."

Still.

Prussia _had_ just complimented him. On his looks of all things. So, Canada couldn't help but smile and blush, shaking his head and walking into the kitchen, aiming to make pancakes. It didn't matter that it was late at night. He was in a good mood. And besides, Gilbert was probably hungry after his flight.

Still.

He was beaming as he worked, smiling wide like something incredible had just happened. "That's weird. I wonder why I'm so happy," he mumbled to himself as he watched the pancake batter cooking in the skillet.

As he let himself get lost in the moment, a presence appeared behind him. "What are you making?"

Canada yelped and jumped a bit, startled to have someone so close. His heart rate sped up before he could turn to look at Prussia, who was standing so close it was almost suffocating. He had not expected the albino to stand behind him like that and look over his shoulder. Strangely enough, the man actually seemed curious, and he was staring right at the food so he _should_ know what Canada was making. Right?

"Pancakes," he muttered. "I thought you might be hungry after such a long plane ride."

Calming down, Canada turned back around. Picking up the skillet, he prepared himself to flip the pancakes, still feeling uncomfortable with Prussia right behind him.

"Pan...cakes?" He heard Prussia mumble as he flipped the food to cook the other side. "What are these pancakes?" It took a lot of concentration not to drop everything at his shock.

"You've never had pancakes?"

A stomach growl was his answer and an insistent. "When will they be ready?" Almost as if Prussia was saying '_Give me food now!_' Like some kind of demanding child.

He shook his head. "Pancakes are only the most amazing food in the world." He did hear Prussia scoff disbelievingly, and he had to wonder what the ex-nation thought could be better. "Especially with Maple Syrup."

Another rumble from the Prussian's stomach and Canada snickered. "It looks like you're cooking bread the wrong way," Gilbert said, still watching from over his shoulder. "Though that flippy-thing is cool."

Canada felt his face grow warm at that. "You think so?"

"Yeah. Definitely." There was a pause, then a bit of whine. "Seriously, though, when's it going to be ready?"

_Like a child. I swear..._

With a roll of his eyes, Canada put the pancakes on a plate, grabbed a fork, and turned around to hand them to the childish man behind him. "Here, you get the first two."

To his surprise, Prussia took the plate and dug in immediately with vigor. One bite and the albino stopped, staring up at him with wide eyes, entire face lighting up. "Holy fuck," he said around the fork still in his mouth. "These are almost as awesome as I am!"

Canada laughed as he watched the silver-haired man devour the pancakes. "There's some Maple Syrup in the cabinet, eh."

Without even pausing, the Prussian walked over to the cabinet, pulled out the syrup bottle, and dabbed a little on his finger to test it, keeping his fork in his mouth. After his little taste test, he proceeded to drown the pancakes in the syrup, making Canada's eyes grow as he watched.

"Do you want some pancakes with that syrup?" He asked as he finished his own set of pancakes.

He placed a few on his own plate and snatched the syrup bottle from Prussia, who was still standing up shoveling the food in his mouth at an insane pace. With a chuckle, he poured some syrup on his own pancakes – a lot less than the Prussian, mind you – and began to eat, pulling up a chair at his kitchen table to sit down like a normal person.

At about the same time he started eating, Prussia finished. Canada watched as the albino proved to be even more like a kid, using a finger to scoop up a lot of the extra syrup. When the ex-nation finished slurping up his syrup, he turned a bit of a creepy grin on Canada. "More?"

Blinking, Canada tilted his head, standing up to grab the plate. "Do you really like them that much?"

"Yup!" Prussia exclaimed, finding a seat at the table himself, sucking on his fingers, probably still tasting syrup.

While Canada worked on making more for the hungry Prussian, Kumajiro – or was it Kumacichi? - made his presence known, walking into the kitchen and sitting at Prussia's feet. Canada watched the strange behavior as much as he could while cooking.

"Oh look it's the little bear." Apparently, Prussia had noticed Kuma as well. "I am sorry little bear but I am not into bestiality. I could share some of Canada's sweet sticky sauce with you, if you want?"

Canada blinked at the albino's choice of words. _What is he going on about? Is he trying to sound perverted? Do I really want to know what he's thinking?_

Kuma responded by climbing into the newcomer's lap, making himself comfortable. Though Prussia was a bit flustered by the bear's behavior, Canada had to admit the ex-nation handled the strange situation better than he had expected. It was strange. Canada himself was shocked to see the polar bear get in the lap of a stranger. He stared at the bear as he placed a new plate of pancakes on Prussia's plate, this time giving him three.

"That's weird," he said. "He usually hides under my bed when someone new is over."

While Canada moved back to his seat, Prussia grinned. "Of course it is my awesomeness that attracts him, but I cannot see how I am supposed to eat with this bear on top of me."

_I swear he's almost as egotistical as Alfred_.

With a smile, Canada sat down. "Just throw a pancake somewhere; he'll go after it."

And, to his surprise, Prussia did as he suggested. _That was meant to be a joke_. "Fetch, bear!" _And Kuma is not going to like that..._

When the polar bear snagged the other two pancakes from Prussia's plate, Canada nodded to himself. _Yep. I expected that_. What he hadn't expected was Prussia's reaction. The albino stared after the bear for a minute and then jumped out of his seat and started chasing Kuma through the house. "Stupid bear! Did I say you could have those?"

When he heard the back door open, Canada sighed. Giving up his own chance to eat food, he decided to see what they were up to. It wouldn't be good to have Prussia chasing a polar bear down the street at night. Someone might call the cops.

He made his way outside, glad to find that Kumajiro had only climbed a tree. Walking to Prussia's side, he sighed. "He won't give them back."

"Like hell he won't," the Prussian growled. Again, unexpected reaction. The ex-nation rushed over to stand at the foot of the tree, shaking his fist and yelling up at the polar bear. "Last chance bear! Give them up or I'm coming up after you!"

Canada felt himself caught between shock and laughter. This...was not what he had anticipated from "the Great Prussia." He had expected someone more like Germany, seeing as Prussia _was_ Germany's brother – older brother. He should have been more mature; he shouldn't have been so childish. It was...strangely interesting.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by the Prussian shouting, "Oh that's it!"

Canada watched as the albino started making an attempt to climb the tree and go after the half-eaten pancakes. Shaking his head, Canada put his hands on his hips and glared sternly – as best as he could – up at his polar bear. "Kumacichi, if you give Prussia the pancakes back, I'll let you drink the syrup out of the bottle." It really was the best way to entice the bear.

"Yeah, listen to your master, stupid bear!" Prussia snapped, partly up the tree trunk and reaching out to snatch at the bear.

To his delight, Kumajiro dropped the pancakes and climbed down, making his way back inside. Canada sighed, "That bear," before turning back with the intent to apologize to Prussia.

He ended up rolling with laughter. The pancakes had been dropped on top of the silver hair and the syrup was dripping down Prussia's face. Of course, he could tell that Prussia was trying his best to maintain dignity, his face calm and surprisingly serious.

"You look so stupid!" Canada shouted, having to hold his sides because the laughter was making it hard to breathe.

"Not possible!" Prussia exclaimed, jumping from the tree and standing tall and proud. His tongue flicked out to lick at the syrup dripping down his cheek. "I. Am always. Awesome!" He did an even more unexpected thing, reaching out to grab the half-eaten soggy pancakes off his head and stuff them all in his mouth at once.

This only made Canada laugh harder. He had to wipe a tear from his eye because he had started crying from the sheer hilarity. "Do you realize where those have been?"

Prussia swallowed the food and shrugged. "Does it matter? They are too awesome to go to waste!"

Yes. His face definitely blushed at that compliment, but at least he was finally able to calm his laughter. "Y-You really think they're that good?"

"Hells yeah!" Prussia was apparently not embarrassed to compliment someone's cooking – just their looks. That was kind of...cute. _Hah. Don't go calling Prussia cute now. You know he doesn't like you – and he won't ever like you._

As Prussia walked over, rubbing his head, Canada smiled and forced those thoughts to the side. Maybe they could at least be friends. "Beer would make it twice as awesome though. My beer. Not America's piss water."

Biting his lip and attempting to hide the blush, Canada stammered. "Th-That reminds me. Weren't we supposed to go to a club or something...?"

"Oh that's right," Prussia said, his eyes distant as if he had forgotten they had planned such a thing. "How about we just buy some good beer and come back here for the night?" Canada blinked and Prussia shrugged. "They don't exactly make pancakes in a club."

With a nod, Canada said, "All right, that seems fair. I'll just get myself some soda while we're at the store." Putting a finger to his lip, he threw out another idea. "We could probably rent a movie while we're at it."

He winced almost as soon as he said it. _Idiot. He's not going to want to hang out with you. He'll probably just want his beer and pancakes and then he'll go off to the guest room and try to forget the bet that forced him to come here_.

When Prussia stared at him with confusion, he knew he was guessing right. "Soda?" And then the ex-nation made his drink choice the big deal. "Sure if you want to mix drinks." When Prussia grinned, Canada was sure he was imagining things. Had Gilbert even heard him? "Let's go then. It's starting to get cold out here."

Though he didn't really understand how it was cold, Canada nodded all the same. "Uhm, yeah." Turning around, he gestured for Prussia to follow him. "Come on, most stores around here will close soon."

"Your stores close? That's not very awesome at all."

With a shrug, Canada sighed, "C'est la vie." _Yeah. He most definitely does not want to stay._ "If you want, you could go over and stay with America. His stores never close."

He could hear Prussia scoff behind him. "What? That ungrateful bastard? I don't think so." Canada froze. _Wait, really?_ "His beer is terrible and his food isn't near as addicting as yours."

Canada froze his steps in place. Was Prussia really turning down the chance to go to America? And not because he had promised to stay for a month but because he liked Canada better? Well, it was the food but still...

This had to have been the first time someone chose him over his brother.

He couldn't believe it.

~!~

_A/N: Wooo that was rough. Apparently, Canada's point of view is easier to write in. Go figure. Probably because he's so introspective whereas Prussia just...does things. Why does Prussia call American beer piss water? Because my fiance' does. And my fiance' likes certain German beers, so, hey, I figured it made sense. _

_Next chapter: Movie night and alcohol consumption. Should be fun. ;) _

_Kairi: Teehee~ I know what's coming~ xD Drunk Canada here we come~ Also. Kuma is hilarious x3_

_Review Replies:_

_brattyteenagewerewolf: Hehe. It actually takes a while to see Prussia affectionate. When we started this roleplay, I wasn't a PruCan fan. When we finished, I was obsessed. And it's because all I aim to do is keep them in character and see what happens. Oh boy, did it happen. ~ (Actually I think the point where I told my sister 'damn you; I love them now' is coming up in the next chapter)_

_UnderwaterAsphyxia: I agree! Glad you're enjoying it. Thanks for the review ;)_

_Kairi-Yajuu2: haha you reviewed on the site ~ Glad you like the extra scene o.o I write best at night! I can't help it if it's 3am and you're asleep when I finish! Oro~_

_Ironicsheep: Thank you! I'm glad you like my Prussia :D And no worries, I don't have to work hard to update this since most of the dialogue is already done for me. Thanks again for the review! I hope you continue to enjoy. _

_~~Thanks for all alerts/favorites/reviews (holy crap 30 alerts; having that many people reading makes my face go O.O)~~_

_~Reda_


	5. Chapter 5

**Author Notes**:

-Don't hate on my movie choice. I was being nostalgic and watching my favorite 90s cartoon when we role-played this section. I don't care if it makes sense. It's what happened and I think it's kind of funny so I kept it that way instead of trying to think of something that he might seriously enjoy.

-My sister plays as Canada. She has never been drunk before. I have. And I'm an extreme lightweight so that's where her ideas come from. At least, I think that's where her ideas come from.

**Warnings****: **

-Alcohol consumption; drunk characters; sexual references

~!~

One Month

Chapter 5

~!~

After a quick run to the nearby gas station and movie rental store, Prussia was now content on the couch in Canada's living room, a bottle of good German beer in his hand and several more sitting ready and waiting on the little table beside the couch. Canada sat next to him, but he didn't have anything to drink. Well, he didn't have anything _good_ to drink by Prussia's standards. Even with Prussia's disapproving faces, the Canadian still bought a pack of soda and seemed quite content to ignore the exasperated looks that Prussia kept intentionally giving him.

How was a movie night supposed to be fun if they didn't both drink?

"I think I remember this show," Canada commented while sipping his soda. Pulling Prussia back to the present.

Prussia had to grin. "Of course you do!"

The Digimon movie would always stand as one of his favorites from the 1990s. He always loved watching those kid cartoons – especially when anything else on television at the same time was news and silly soap operas or game shows. Finishing his beer, he slammed the empty bottle on the table beside him and grabbed another one. Yes. Digimon plus beer would make it even more awesome.

"You cannot be awesome if you don't know the awesome shows!"

Canada shrugged, "I guess, but isn't that an opinion?" As Prussia started gulping down his second beer, ignoring the question, he could feel Canada's eye watching him. "Aren't you worried about getting drunk?"

"Kesesese, me? Get drunk?" He had to laugh. The very idea. "I am Prussian. I can hold my liquor better than anyone." He frowned for half a second as a single person entered his brain and almost offhandedly he amended his statement. "Except for Russia, but that guy isn't normal."

He wasn't surprised by Canada's shudder at the mention of Russia. "That's the truth. He gets a kick out of sitting on me all the time..."

At this, Prussia blinked, staring over at him. "Sitting on you?" He tried to imagine it, wondering how the Russian could get away with it. "I know he's a bastard, but why would you let him?"

Canada's answer was a raised eyebrow, as if it was a stupid question. "Do I look strong enough to push him off?"

_Well, yes, I would think so..._

"I mean, sure, I have the second largest landmass, but he ranks higher than me in that."

_Ah, that is true._

"Besides, no one seems to notice anyway."

Still not understanding how someone couldn't notice the Canadian, Prussia shrugged and let it go. But then an idea hit him and he couldn't shake it off. As the grin grew on his face, he stood up, walked over a bit to stand in front of Canada, and sat down on him as if he wasn't there. He had to laugh, keeping his beer in one hand as he put the other hand up to his forehead and pretended to look around the room as if the Canadian had disappeared.

"Canada, oh Canada! Where'd you go?" He laughed, thinking this one of the most hilarious things he'd done in a while.

Especially when Canada yelped and started trying to shove him off, making very suggestive back and forth motions. "M-Maple...Leaf...get off of me!"

Chuckling, Prussia pretended not to hear, loving the teasing way too much. "What was that? Could've sworn I heard something." With a shrug, he took another swig of beer. "Wonder if I'm hearing things now. Kesese."

Oh yes. Something about this was way too much fun. Behind him, Canada huffed. "Get off or I swear I will make Kuma get rid of your precious 'five meters' while you sleep."

Aghast at the very notion, the very idea, how could he... Spinning around to face Canada without thinking too much about the position, he let his eyes widen with his gaping mouth. "That's just barbaric!" Even if his "five meters" wasn't really that long, the very idea of losing it – to that _bear_ of all things, too – was enough to make him sweat and shiver. "Even I don't threaten with something like that!"

To his surprise, Canada's response was a blush and wandering eyes. "P-please get off of me."

Prussia blinked. Why was the Canadian blushing? Why had he gone from such a crazy threat to such a weak reaction? He had sparked fire and then watched it die right in front of him. Though Prussia had to admit, there was something cute about that blush. He tilted his head to the side to his show his confusion, and maybe grinned to tease him more.

"Why should I?"

"B-because I uh...uhm...you see...I...uh..."

Prussia felt his laugh bubble all the way from the back of his throat. "Kesese, what's wrong?" He asked as he purposefully, shifted closer to him, rubbing against his leg a little bit and placing his elbows on either of Canada's shoulders so that the blushing, stuttering man couldn't look away so easily.

He could swear he felt a quick rush of air across his face. "I-I y-you're so close and I..." The eyes finally looked up, finally locked with his, and Prussia felt his wide grin start to fall as the Canadian gave him a reaction he hadn't been expecting. "W-wow..."

No. He wasn't staring back. He wasn't caught in those strange blue-violet eyes. There was definitely a strange mix of colors there. Not the same as Ivan's purple for sure, but not the same bright blue as his brother's either. And, no, it was not making him lose his thoughts. No, it was not making him swallow nervously. No, he was not shifting his body because he was suddenly warm and craving something else – something more than teasing. Definitely not.

It most certainly wasn't the reason for the whispered, "Err...you look different this close up."

"Oui...s-so do you..."

The voice definitely didn't sound any different from before. It was still the same quiet, half-whispered, slightly higher pitched voice as before, so there should be no reason for him to react so much to it. Keh. He wasn't reacting. Everything was under control.

His face was moving forward because he wanted it to. His hands were resting in the dark blond hair because he wanted them to. Everything was under control. This was just teasing. He'd pull back at the last second. Canada's eyes closing just meant he had to hold his position, wait for the Canadian to open them again so he could laugh. Yeah. Exactly. So why was he still moving forward?

Before anything could actually happen, though, pain inflamed up his hand, the feeling of teeth gnashing against his flesh. "Ow! Fuck!" Dropping his hands and pulling backwards, he ended up falling off of Canada's lap, hitting the ground on his ass with his legs in the air. With a wince and a growl, he pulled himself back to sit up normally. "I swear that bear has something against me," he snapped, glaring at the polar bear sitting on the back of the couch looking so victorious up there.

He watched and glared as the stupid white bear crawled down to sit in Canada's lap – right where Prussia had just been about to enjoy himself. He could swear those animal eyes were laughing at him.

"No, he doesn't have anything against you. He's just a little...possessive," Canada said with a shrug, glancing away. "...Maple..."

Prussia grunted and pulled himself up into a crouch, sticking his tongue out at the polar bear – who even cared what the thing's name was anyway? "...stupid possessive bear..." he mumbled before glancing up to meet Canada's eyes, blinking when they actually did meet, quickly looking the other way as soon as they did.

_The fuck am I doing? I don't get it...This isn't right at all._

"Uhm...I'm going to...get something to drink..." Canada mumbled before standing up, taking the stupid bear with him.

Prussia watched him for but a second before springing to his feet and chasing him down – grabbing his own bottle of beer and another one as he went, of course. "Why not try this?"

He would get the damn Canadian drunk tonight. He _would_.

Setting the bear down and stuffing a squeeze bottle of syrup in its face, Canada sighed and turned to face him, looking at the beer bottles with a bit of curiosity. "I don't know. I can't really hold my alcohol all that well. And America always makes it a point to keep it from me..."

At this information, Prussia had to blink and gape again. An older brother keep his younger brother from alcohol? At this age? When had he first given Germany beer? He had been a kid, a pre-teen maybe. But Canada was grown; he should be able to make his own decisions. ...Why would he be purposefully kept from alcohol?

"Keep you away from it?" He decided to share his thoughts with the Canadian, still not making sense of it. "But isn't he your older brother?"

He was not satisfied when Canada shrugged. "Like I said, I don't hold my alcohol very well." Which meant that Canada _had_ been introduced to _something_. Granted, it probably wasn't the good stuff. "One bottle of it and the next thing I remember is waking up at 2PM with the worst hangover imaginable."

"Fah! It's not about remembering." Prussia said with a grin, thinking he had found the solution. "It's about forgetting everything else and living in the moment." This was why drinking times with France and Spain were the best. Sometimes even England could have fun, if one got him started. So, he simply had to get Canada started. "C'mon," he pressed, holding a bottle out to him.

Biting his lip, Canada finally gave in. "Well, I guess just one won't hurt."

"Exactly!" Prussia exclaimed with another grin. "What could go wrong?" Tipping back his own bottle, he chugged the rest of it, loving the feel, loving the taste.

When Canada took the bottle and gave a tentative sip, Prussia could feel his excitement growing. This night was going to be awesome! He couldn't wait to see what this guy was like when drunk. His grin only grew wider as the Canadian walked back to the couch, taking quick sips as he walked, the sips steadily getting longer and longer with each tip of the bottle.

Prussia turned back to the polar bear and stuck his tongue out, wanting so bad to flip him off, too, but holding it back in case Canada was offended. He didn't want to ruin his chance at getting the supposedly innocent man drunk. Still, he did feel pretty victorious at having Canada drinking now, even if the bear didn't seem to care now that there was maple syrup in its face.

As he walked back to the couch, he caught Canada give a hiccup and a worried glance at the half full bottle. "M-Maybe I should stop."

"Nonsense!" Prussia exclaimed, plopping down on the couch next to the little blond haired blue-purple-whatever-eyed man, draping an arm around behind him. "A little hiccup shouldn't stop you!"

_Actually, do it again; it sounded cute._

With a swallow and a nod, Canada drank some more, muttering, "I guess you're right."

Prussia decided to sit back and watch as the Canadian's face slowly got redder and redder with each quick gulp. Yes, he was up to gulping now instead of just sips. The alcohol was taking effect rather quickly – or maybe he was getting used to the taste. The super awesome taste.

And then, the bottle was empty and Canada giggled. "That tastes really good," he slurred, falling over to lay his head in Prussia's lap – much to the albino's surprise.

_That was fast._

"Told ya it was awesome!"

Another giggle. "Is there more?"

Wide-splitting grin, reaching around for another bottle. He was so glad he bought so much. (Or had Canada buy so much). "Sure there's more!"

He could only stare as Canada took the bottle, wrapped his lips around the opening and tipped it all back, chugging it quicker than Prussia would have expected the lightweight to be able to handle. _Whoa. Should I tell him to slow down?_

Before he could even make a comment, Canada rolled off the couch, standing up shakily and reaching for the nearest phone. Surprised and a little curious, Prussia decided to just watch him. And then the guy on the other end actually answered.

"Hey! A-America!"

As soon as the name left Canada's mouth, Prussia let loose with a groan. Why did he have to call his brother? This was going to get awkward. Or was it? He wasn't really sure _why_ America had banned his younger brother from alcohol. Maybe he could take this opportunity to find out.

"America, we should-we should-we should call all the nations together and have a giant nation orgy!" Prussia was too stunned at an idea coming out of Canada's mouth to laugh, even though the drunk nation giggled. "It would be fun! An-an-an' – huh? 'Kay!"

He blinked and then grinned when the younger nation decided to sit in his lap, plopping himself down nice and easy like he belonged there or something. But then he held the phone out, and Prussia felt his eyes twitch. "He wants to talk to you."

_I'm sure he does._

Taking the phone, Prussia immediately put on his characteristic laugh. "What's up? This was an awesome idea, by the way. Canada and I are about to-"

He was interrupted by a shout. Of course. Should have known. "Did you give him beer? Do you realize how hard it is to keep him from it? I swear, if you try anything, I am sending my fucking Navy Seals on your ass!"

Prussia grimaced, not that the idea of America's Navy Seals scared him. Of course not. He was fucking Prussia. He wasn't scared of anything. "Whoa man, chill, okay? It'll all be consensual. It was his idea to sit on me at least..."

He had to keep talking. Had to keep America from interrupting him. But Canada was reaching out, distracting him. What the hell was he doing?

"...and the orgy...but the beer was mine. Of course I gave him beer! And _real_ beer, too, not your cheap shit!"

Cue the angry protest. "That does it! I'm coming over there right now! I knew this would be a bad idea! You can't handle being responsible for one fucking night!"

"Responsible?" He felt his eyes narrow at the very absurd suggestion. "I can too be responsible. How else do you think I raised and unified Germany?" Even as Canada started to fall, Prussia reached out to hold him closer, wrapping his free arm around him to keep him steady. "I thought you were trying to play match-maker, not hire a babysitter." Changing positions of the phone slightly, he turned his attention to the drunk Canadian. "Your brother's an ass," he whispered.

To which Canada nodded as if it were obvious. "Oui..." He muttered before leaning into the albino, making Prussia's heart beat a bit faster, his pulse picking up, his nether regions starting to beg for more contact.

A huff came over the phone. "It was like that until you got my brother drunk. Look, if you have sex with my brother while he's drunk like this, he'll be scarred for life and I will personally make sure you can never have sex again."

Eyes widening at the threat – really, what was with these Western nations and their threats to his pride and joy? - Prussia gaped into the phone. "Hey! That's a little harsh, don't you think? And besides, why would it scar him? What, is he a-" The word didn't leave his lips, but it echoed in his mind.

_Virgin?_

_A virgin? Really? They still exist among the nations? There's no way...is there?_

Red eyes gazed over the Canadian, seeing the innocent, simply drunk man. Flushed face. Giggling. Such an opposite from the quiet man from earlier. Was he really just drunk? And a virgin?

_Virgin... Wow...that's a..._

A complete buzz kill. Not that he was any less horny, though. But now instead of seeing this moment as a fun drunken fling, he saw the accidental tarnishing of a young heart, forever locking the man into a state against sex or beer ever again. Two things that Prussia could never deal with.

He swallowed the words on his tongue. "Oh..."

"Yeah, so you better not try anything!" Came America's shout, followed by a muffled conversation in the background, and then the brash youth came back. "Fine! England says I should trust you a bit more or whatever, but I am not taking back that threat!"

"Right, right," Prussia sighed. _Total buzz kill. Seriously. _"Don't worry. I did not realize." With a groan, he tried to shift positions to where Canada wasn't sitting so close to his dick. It didn't work. And he was still horny. _Fuck_. "...it wouldn't be the right way to do it..." he muttered before hanging the phone up and tossing it to the couch.

And then Canada giggled at him. "You know something?" With a raised eyebrow, Prussia tilted his head in curiosity. "You actually look really hot." Even with the slurred speech, those words made his eyes grow, made his breath catch, made his heart skip, and with the knowledge of the man's virginity now in his brain, when Canada moved as if to kiss him, Prussia had only way to react.

He shoved Canada off of him, pushing him to the side so that he fell on the couch. Standing up quickly, he found himself panting, fighting mixed emotions. _Damn it. Damn it. Damn it. _He stared down at the drunken Canadian, trying to avoid the blush on the man's face, trying to ignore the cute bounce in that strange hair curl, trying so hard to ignore the drunken moans – most especially that.

"This isn't...This wasn't...Argh!" _He's a virgin. He's innocent. _"Gott verdammt!" _You can't have a drunken fling with him. He really would be scarred. He wouldn't understand. He probably wouldn't even remember, but that's no way to..._

Canada sat up, holding his head, tears leaking from his eyes as he stared back up at Prussia. "You don't...like me...?" And then he started crying, which brought the attention of that stupid fucking polar bear who came into the room to walk to Canada and glare at Prussia. Of course.

"No! That's not it at all!" He growled at the bear. "Don't look at me like that, stupid bear! I didn't know!" With a huff, he crossed his arms. "This wasn't exactly my idea, you know."

"Ah. That's right," the Canadian said, his cries stopping immediately. "It was mine."

"Yeah. Exactly," Prussia said, nodding before the statement could actually process through his brain. And then he froze and found himself staring at Canada yet again. "Wait...what the fuck? What is that supposed to mean?"

_It was Canada's idea? Really? No. No way. That's just the drunk talking. Or is it? Oh man..._

Instead of getting an answer – he should have known – Canada giggled and turned to glomp his polar bear. "Fluffy!" The bear was not amused.

With a groan, Prussia moved a hand to his hair, starting to grip at the messy white spikes. "This is _not_ how I imagined it." Pulling at his hair, he nodded to himself. "Yeah. This was a bad idea. I'm out."

And with that, he made his way outside to the porch. Where he left the door open a slight crack and leaned back against the wall next to it, going out into the cold on purpose. He couldn't actually leave. For one, he didn't have a way out of here. For another, he had made a promise to stay for a month. But he did have to get out of the house. And into the cold. It would help calm down the exceedingly growing horny feelings.

_Gott this got way out of hand. _

Too many emotions were flooding his brain making things complicated. Things he was not used to. Drinking really had been a bad idea. Not that he would ever admit to anyone else – he had a reputation. Apparently, he had more of a reputation than he thought, if America had jumped to conclusions immediately. Not that America really knew him. Though England did. Thankfully. He'd have to remember to call Arthur some day and thank him for holding the brash American youth back; who knew what that crazy hasty nation could have done for one simple misunderstanding?

"Argh, this is giving me a headache..."

Breaking the cold silence – because he was starting to feel the cold – were the familiar tweets of a very familiar yellow bird. A very angry yellow bird – who appeared on the scene tweeting like mad and flying around Prussia's head. "What is wrong with you? I could not take you on the airplane, you know."

Gilbird responded by puffing up and then letting it all go with as close to a sigh as a bird could make before settling in the white mess that was Prussia's hair.

"Kesese, of course only a bird awesome enough to be named after me would come flying halfway around the world just to find me." He reached up to lightly brush at the yellow feathers. "You are so much more awesome than that stupid bear."

Cue the stupid bear.

When the polar bear appeared next to him, sitting down and glaring up at him, Prussia made a face. "What?"

To his surprise, the bear huffed and opened its mouth, a very high pitched voice escaping into the cold night air. "He likes you."

As he watched the bear walk back inside, Prussia blinked, mind completely blown. "He...talks..." He huffed and looked upwards as if he could see the bird on his hair. "Why don't you talk? You should be more awesome than that bear!"

Which earned him an angry tweet. _'Of course I'm more awesome! That's not the point!'_ Gilbird started to lecture him on being responsible, flying around the doorway entrance to bring attention to a very drunk Canada crawling around on the floor as if looking for something.

Prussia grit his teeth, wanting to swat at the bird for freaking _lecturing_ him. The hell? Who got lectured by their own pet, seriously? And then America's voice entered his mind for a second. Something about being responsible.

Paying attention to Gilbird's mad flying, Prussia found his eyes focused on the crawling, completely gone Canadian. And he slammed his hand into his forehead. "What the hell are you doing?" He asked, walking over to help Canada to his feet.

"I-I've gotta find...Gotta find the...the cursed panties!"

Prussia nearly hit the ground in shock. _The fuck?_

"Papa told me about them a while back and uhm...uh...I...don't remember...anything else..."

_Papa? Who's his papa? Sounds like something France would say... Oh Gott, is this the little brat Francis had way back when...? _

"You're sexy."

Successfully pulled out of his own thoughts, Prussia blinked and stared at Canada, feeling his face flush. Not that the words themselves were new. He'd heard that plenty of times. Usually from mortals, though. Not from cute drunken Canadians. Though the drunk part did put a damper on the compliment...

"Uh well," Prussia cleared his throat. "Doesn't matter. I think you need to lie down and stay put for a while." He tried to ignore his yellow chick making large circles around the both of them.

And the damnable cute pout on Canada's face. "But I'm French...I don't need sleep! I need an orgy!" Those blue-violet eyes glanced up, seeing Gilbird, and reaching for the yellow bird. "Birdie!"

He chuckled at the word. _That's new. And kind of cute, too. _"Trust me, even the French need their sleep. So, _Birdie _is going to sleep because I think the drinking really was a bit much for you."

As he was expecting, Canada pouted and huffed at him. "Will you sleep with me?"

And _that_ was completely _unexpected_. "Ah...I...Uh...S-sure?" What else was he supposed to say to that? It's not like he would _sleep with him... _he would just sleep next to him. No problems there, right? Not if he asked for it?

"Yay!" Still dazed, Prussia only half paid attention as Canada started struggling to break free of his grip – which was the only thing keeping the swaying man on his feet now. "Put Birdie down now!"

"Huh? Oh, sure," Prussia complied, letting go without thinking.

Which meant Canada fell to the floor almost immediately. Giggling. And smiling up at him. "I like you. You're nice."

Staring after the Canadian as the drunk man stood up to his own feet and started swaying inside, Prussia blinked at the latest compliment. "Yeah...That's definitely a new one..."

As Gilbird chirped in his ear, Canada fell to the ground again, starting to crawl along the floor...again. With a sigh, Prussia shook his head and walked over to pick him up in his arms. Best way to handle this. Canada wouldn't remember because he was fucking smashed. So there was no reason for that damn blush on his face.

"Does Birdie need help from the Awesome Me?"

Another giggle. And arms wrapping around his neck making it hard to breath. Not because Canada was holding tightly or anything – more like he couldn't breathe because his body and mind was a bit too focused on a certain somebody holding onto him. "Oui, Birdie's lost."

He gulped. _And how the hell am I supposed to find the bedroom? I don't live here._

Gritting his teeth, Prussia decided he'd have to ask the drunken lightweight in his arms which direction to walk...except Canada chose this moment to pass out, curling up against him and breathing lightly.

_Fuck...fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck..._

Not that it was _that_ big of a deal. Just that this was way too close, way too personal. And this was _not_ his style. He was having to hold back raging emotions and the damn Canadian just kept finding ways to make it more difficult.

"Great...and I still don't know where his bedroom is..." He hung his head in defeat and started walking.

Only to have a certain stupid polar bear brush against his leg and plop down in front of a door. "Open."

_I give up. Fucking bear. Do you like me or hate me? With me or against me? I just don't care anymore..._

Once he got the door open, the bear walked inside immediately, climbing up to the bed. As the bear found its spot at the foot of the bed, Canada mumbled something in his sleep. Something about white houses and fires and...hell, Prussia had no idea what kind of dream...

With a sigh, he walked in, Gilbird flying in close behind, and set the sleeping drunk man on the bed before flopping down next to him. The thought of taking clothes off to sleep easier occurred to him, but he quickly shook his head at the idea. For one, he was tired. For another, any evidence he could have of _nothing happening_ would probably be appreciated in the morning. In the distance, almost as if an after thought, he could make out the sounds of his favorite Digimon movie coming to a close, the ending theme making itself known throughout the house.

_Ah well. I'll get him to watch it some other time..._

"Cold...Kuma..." Canada mumbled, reaching out for some kind of warmth.

Prussia had to agree. It was cold. And he didn't feel like getting off the bed just to pull a blanket up. So, he did the next best thing. Rolling close to Canada, he draped an arm around him and held him close. Body warmth. No other reason. Nope. Not at all.

As his head hit the pillows, he closed his eyes and tried not to wonder what he was going to say in the morning. Things would work out. It wasn't like anything happened. It wasn't like getting drunk would ruin any kind of relationship or friendship – because friendship was much more likely than anything more. Even with all those random ass "you're sexy" compliments.

Yeah.

Friends.

Nothing more. Nope. Never.

The Awesome Prussia did not fall in love. Especially not with...well...whatever Canada was...

~!~

_A/N: Ah hah. So, there's our drunk Canada. And the reason why he's not allowed near alcohol. And Prussia, you're totally not falling in love, are you? Not even just a little? Heh.  
-OOC (out of character) comment of the Role-Play: (And Kuma takes Al's place in the Big Brother Protection Program)-Kairi_

_Kairi: I forgot I said that, lol xD Poor Canada. Tch Tch. Fancis, Fancis, Francis. You see what you do?_

_Review Replies:_

_Wolfie338: First off, I have to say: I LOVE your avatar. And your "holy spaghetti" phrase there. Thanks so much for the review. Glad to see you're enjoying it. I love the chase scene with Kuma and Prussia, too. XD Hope the drunk Canada was up to expectations. We were having too much fun. (K: *cough cough * Chase scene was my idea~ Strokin' the ego. Strokin' the ego.)_

_seqka711: Oh really? I learned something new. Didn't know Canadians were known for that. My sister and I are kind of Southern Americans so we really like to carry this "uninformed/stupid American stereotype" at times. (K: Hey. We're not as bad as multiple people in multiple of my (high school) classes. Reda and I know that Canada is not a state because we can count.)So Coors Light is Canadian? Hah, didn't know that. XD Hope Canada drunk was up to expectations (and maybe gave reason for him having no alcohol); glad to hear you like the pairing now! Yay! :D And thanks for the review! _

_emz and bellz: Yeah. Can't you just imagine him having fun with the Bad Touch Trio? XD I mean, if he's raised by one and then falls in love with another... I think he could have fun with them...Or maybe we should be saying "poor Canada"? Lol... Thanks for the review :D_

_France1: Thanks for the review! And don't worry, I'll keep going. Reviews certainly help push me, though. Funny how a little ego stroking can set inspiration up. (K: AH! It's France! RUN AWAY!)_

_Ashe Nightshade: You! You made me stay up past my bedtime to finish writing this out! Your review was just simply amazing. Thank you! Lol... (K: I love you~ you're review was hilariously awesome xD Oh, and also. *hits Ashe's head with a baseball bat and steals Canada back * MINE!)_

_~~Thanks for all the alerts/favorites/reviews; they really do help :)~~_

_~Reda_


	6. Chapter 6

**Author Notes****: **

-I don't know. Really.

-This was really difficult. I just _could not_ decide a good point of view to stick with. Everything is so amazing from both of their inside thoughts...I seriously got frustrated. Hope it comes out all right. Here's to choosing the right viewpoint!

-I want to apologize if things feel rushed. Ah, it's something that happens in role-plays, especially when we weren't originally planning to share this.

**Warning****:**

-Pseudo-history. This is what I call it when I take a single idea (such as my history teacher talking about Prussia unifying the German states and then suddenly we have Germany on the map and no longer have Prussia – like, wut, is that even correct?), and run with it. Instead of pseudo-science, it's pseudo-history, meaning it sounds plausible or whatever and I take it wherever I care to. This is what happens in role-plays because I get too lazy to _really_ research. So there. Just a warning, if something sounds off, that's why.

-Also: (as an OOC comment said:) AAAANGST

~!~

One Month

Chapter 6

~!~

_He was having a nice dream. _

_Snow. _

_It was cold enough and normal and beautiful, carpeting the world and twinkling in the eyes of youngsters. _

_Ice skating. _

_His favorite pastime. Alone on the ice. Lost in thoughts. No one to wonder who he was. No one to beat him up for America's mistakes. Simply alone. _

_Maple leaves falling._

_Leaves falling alongside snow, as if that made sense. Anything was possible in a dream, though. Anything..._

_Even a genuine happy smile aimed only for him from a certain red-eyed white-haired ex-nation. _

_Wait..._

~!~

He woke with a start, mind still lost in its explanations of the dream, still trying to understand what his subconscious had dredged up. Why was he dreaming of Prussia? He'd just met the man! Was his subconscious trying to tell him something? Certainly not! That was taking things too far. That was way too much to hope for.

The sound of a tweeting bird had him opening his eyes, curious to figure out why it sounded so close. Which was when he discovered he was sleeping right up against a certain red-eyed white-haired ex-nation.

"Mon dieu!" He exclaimed, catapulting backwards, eyes wide, falling off the bed and scooting backwards.

_What happened last night? The last thing I remember is the movie and...the beer..._

He put a hand up to his mouth, fighting tears, wondering what he had done – or what the Prussian had done – or what _they_ had done... "Mon dieu, mon dieu, mon dieu..."

Canada watched as Prussia yawned and slowly came awake, sliding up to a sitting position on the bed. The white hair was disheveled more than normal – _but that's just because he was sleeping, right?_ The clothes were wrinkled –_ why is he wearing clothes in bed? _Canada felt tears fall from his eyes as the thoughts crossed his mind, worried like crazy because he couldn't remember last night at all. _Why is he in my bed?_

Then Prussia grinned. "'Morning, _Birdie_," and then he frowned when he caught eyes with Canada. "What's the matter?"

_How dare you ask that! You should know what's wrong! I can't believe..._

Instead of speaking his mind, Canada felt himself stuttering the questions out. "Wha-wha-wha-what happened last night? Why are you in my bed?"

_The most important question. _

"What is that bird?"

_Seriously, where did that yellow chick come from and why is it sitting on the headboard of my bed? _

"And why are you calling me 'Birdie'!" The tears spilled out again. He just couldn't control them, or make himself react how he wanted to when frustrated.

Eyes on Prussia, he watched as the albino pulled his legs together, crossing them in what America would have called "Indian-style." "Uhm...well..." The albino held up his hand and started pointing at his fingers, like he was about to list something. "I'll start backwards." He took a breath and started with the first finger. "The nickname thing just sort of...happened."

_What kind of answer is that, you jack ass!_

"The bird is mine – the little devil flew halfway around the world to find me because he's that awesome."

_Even your bird is awesome? Well, I suppose it's better than a random bird from outside somehow finding its way to my bed...Wait, it flew from Germany?_

"You _asked _me to sleep with you."

At this revelation, Canada felt himself squeak, felt his face grow red. _Really? I-I did that?_

But Prussia seemed not to notice. Maybe the squeak was covered by his mouth. "But nothing happened. Even though you were kind of drunk and really asking for something but uh..." The albino shrugged. "...we kind of slept with our clothes on so you can trust me when I say nothing happened."

Canada found that he could only stare back at him. "So...nothing happened between us? At all? You swear?"

He could have sworn that Prussia's grin twitched. Maybe? It happened so fast and was covered up so quickly it was hard for Canada to be sure he'd seen it. "Nope. Nothing." There was a pause and Prussia looked away. "You made it hard as hell...but you can tell that asshole of a brother of yours that I can too be responsible." Now _that_ sounded like the childish Prussian he could remember from last night, the muttering whine. From what he could remember, at least. "Right, Gilbird?" He blinked at the name for the bird and at the way the yellow chick chirped back, as if there was actually a conversation going on between them.

But then he blinked as something else processed in his mind. _Wait, did he say..._

"Al called?" Canada whispered, blushing when Prussia gave him a nod. "Oh God, what did I say to him?"

He winced when the Prussian laughed, knowing there was going to be something perverted and terrible and _oh I don't really want to hear this..._

"You told him..." But then the albino sighed and shook his head. "Never mind. It doesn't matter." Canada was about to open his mouth to insist that it did matter – that if he had said something terrible, he should call his brother and apologize – but Gilbert changed the subject. "Uh, do you think you can make more of those pancakes?"

If it wasn't for the stomach growl...

But he let it go. Because he was nice like that. And he didn't _really_ want to hear the whole story of last night, anyway. Sure, a part of him was curious. A part of him wanted to apologize profusely for anything obscene he might have done. But, really and truly? He wanted it to be nothing more than a memory.

"Uh, sure, I need to change though-" And _then_ the headache hit him. Right between the eyes. Building and attacking like only a terrible hangover headache could. He whimpered, hand going up to the side of his head, starting to rub at it as if he could force the pain out the other side. "Ow."

From the bed he could hear Prussia's curious voice. "Headache? ...Hangover?"

Closing his eyes, Canada felt himself crumple up into a ball on the floor, feeling sick. "Yeah...ugh...I feel terrible..."

He didn't realize Prussia had moved to squat beside him until he heard the albino's voice again – close up and right above him, as if he were hovering. "Interesting...I don't really get hangovers...what's it like...?"

_Like a child! I swear! Curious and annoying and..._

"Ick...Terrible..." He shuddered and curled up tighter, part of it a reflex to close in on himself with Prussia being so close. "Someone needs to turn that light off."

There was a pause. A long awkward pause. He could almost feel hands brush the edges of his back, but there was no touch. _Thankfully_. And shortly after that there was the sound of curtains being drawn closed and the little light in the room dimming away to blessed darkness. _Thankfully_.

He could hear the bird tweeting, which was annoying. And then there was Prussia's voice again – but further away, of course, because he had just closed the curtains. "Uh...do you need help...getting back into bed?"

_What, is he gonna pick me up? Carry me to bed? Like I'm a child or some-?_

He gave in and nodded, especially when he admitted that moving was going to be incredibly difficult in this condition. "Oui...I can't move..."

There was the sound of shuffling feet against carpet and then strong arms wrapped around him, lifting him up. He opened his eyes and caught himself staring into a shaking pair of red orbs. Which quickly turned away, glancing back but only from the corners. "S-sorry..." came the mumbled apology.

_Like staring into my eyes is something bad?_

Still, Canada felt his own face blushing and he looked away as well, especially when realizing that Prussia was still looking at him if only from a different angle. "N-no. It's fine..." he mumbled back.

And then he was on the bed, gently – surprisingly gently. And a hand was moving the covers over his body, up to his chin. Surprisingly...sweet... Suddenly, his face was red again and he was fighting the urge to yell at himself for daring to think...

"I'm sorry...for causing you so much trouble..." he said, trying to hide his face in the pillow or the covers or _anything_.

There was no response for a while. Awkward silence stretched between them in which Canada kept his eyes shut tight and listened to his own breathing, trying to ignore that pestering throbbing in his skull.

And then there came a quiet question – strangely quiet. Since when was Prussia quiet about anything, after all? "Anything else I can do for you?"

His heart skipped a beat. Quite without permission. _Did he just- Does he care enough to- Stop reading things into it! He's just being nice! _

He forced his eyes to open and look up at the albino, staring at the slightly pink flush across the pale face. The hands were behind his head. The yellow chick was resting among the white spikes of hair. The head was turned to the side and the eyes were gazing at something – or nothing – on the far wall.

Swallowing his own surprise, Canada discovered that his throat was quite dry – and that he was actually quite thirsty. "Some water would be nice." He almost cursed himself for being selfish and asking for something, curling more into a ball on the bed, pulling the covers close in to his body. "But you don't have to, if it's too much trouble."

"Right..." Prussia mumbled, lingering for a bit before turning around and leaving the room.

_I wonder if he's going to get some water or not. _

He scoffed. _Yeah right. Like he actually cares._

Tears pricked at the edges of his vision and he let them fall silently. _But I want him to care._

~!~

Prussia found himself out in the hallway, leaning his back against a wall, hand clutching at his hair, eyes staring at the floor but really not staring at anything. Certain familiar – and yet strange – emotions kept bubbling in his stomach and his chest. It was different from last night. He couldn't call it a symptom of being turned on anymore.

There was the want to take care of Canada. The want to make him feel better. For the hangover headache to go away. The want to see him in peace.

_Familiar:_ it reminded him of taking care of a younger Germany.

_Strange_: Canada wasn't a kid; since when did he care about some nobody nation that had no ties to him at all?

Then there was something else. Guilt. He was blaming himself for Canada's condition. He had convinced the man to drink, even though Canada had said multiple times it wasn't a good idea.

_Familiar_: guilt over losing his nation hit him all the time, so it was nothing new.

_Strange_: he had never felt guilt _over someone else_ before.

Beyond that, his heart was beating faster and he was almost gasping, like he'd been holding his breath for a long time. Which didn't make sense, because he'd only been awake for a few minutes. On top of that, there was a pain in his chest that he could easily recognize whether or not he wanted to admit it. His thoughts were just flying in every direction and he _couldn't focus_!

_Familiar_: every fucking moment with Hungary was like this ever since they both grew up.

_Strange_: how could he feel like this for some random nobody nation that he'd _just met_?

Chirping in his ear pulled him out of his thoughts. Loud, obnoxious chirping from a certain yellow chick that was now flying around his head. Gilbird was definitely mocking him. He grit his teeth and growled at the bird.

"Shut up, you!" He snapped, reaching out to grab at the bird, missing of course, having to deal with the yellow chick tweeting a slightly different tune. It was still mocking him, though. "I don't know!" He gulped. "I don't know why..."

Shaking his head, he pushed himself away from the wall and started walking down the hallway, ignoring the lingering bird. He crossed his arms and mumbled to himself. "What the hell is wrong with me? What is it about some nobody nation that makes the Great Prussia act so...so..." he fumbled for a word, trying to explain his actions, trying to understand his thoughts and feelings. "...so unawesome?"

He winced. Describing himself as anything but awesome always made him cringe. Well, personally describing himself as anything but awesome made him cringe. He'd heard different descriptions several times from other nations. Hell, no one else ever called him awesome. But for _his own brain_ to call him _unawesome_? He hadn't done that since...

Thankfully, the sound of a ringing cell phone broke those thoughts before they could go somewhere unwanted. It took him a moment to realize it wasn't his phone ringing, seeing as it was coming from the living room and it was blaring a certain national anthem about a certain "Star Spangled Banner."

Prussia ground his teeth together as he walked into the room to go answer it. He'd heard that anthem enough at all those stupid Olympic games to know who it was – and, honestly, he was thankful that the asshole had called. He could use someone to yell at now. There had to be someway to bury these weird ass fucking feelings.

Slinking over to the couch, he snatched the phone and answered it, getting America's voice on the other end before he even had a chance to say 'hello.'

"Hey, Mattie, you all right, bro? I swear I will rip his nuts off if he tried anything!"

Prussia grimaced at the mental image – really, this guy was fucking _insane_! "Hey asshole, he's fine. Hangover from hell, but otherwise fine." The familiar feeling grin crossed his face and he barked a short laugh. "See? I told you there was no reason to assume the Awesome Me would do anything!"

For some reason, his laugh felt a little off.

Not that America would notice. "Let me talk to him."

"Yeah, yeah, hang on, though. I gotta get him some water first." Ignoring America's complaints, he made his way to the kitchen, opening cabinet doors until he found the glasses, doing exactly what he said he was going to do. As the glass started filling up with water from the tap, he started muttering to himself. "What the hell do I do for someone with a hangover?"

With all the drinking he had done, with all the times he'd been drunk, with all the friendly drunken flings...he should know how to handle hangovers by now. But somehow he'd always managed to steer clear of the blasted things and by the time he usually woke up the day after, everyone had gone back to their normal routines as if nothing had happened. Maybe sleeping was the ultimate cure.

"You really are an ass," he heard America growl.

Which caused him to grind his teeth again. "Why? Why am I the asshole here?" He grumbled into the phone as he took the glass full of water and started making his way back to Canada's bedroom. "You're the one accusing me of shit I didn't do!" Finally back in the bedroom, he set the glass on the table next to Canada's bed before huffing and shoving the phone out to him. "Your brother," he snapped.

When Canada groaned and turned away, Prussia blinked. "I don't feel like talking to him."

That was an unexpected reaction. As much of an asshole as America was, they were still brothers, right? Even if he was pissed off at West – hell, even if West was pissed off at _him_ – they always talked to each other. Were Western nations just that much different? Or were he and Germany just special? Come to think of it, Russia had a not-so-nice relationship with one of his sisters, too. But that was different. Belarus was a crazy bitch.

Pushing unwanted thoughts of Russia to the side, Prussia pulled the phone back up to his mouth and whispered. "Did you hear that?" Maybe shouting and causing a commotion wasn't the best thing for someone with a hangover. He'd have to be more careful from now on.

"What? Hear what?" Of course, America was going to be loud as always. "_What did you do to him?_"

Before Prussia could respond, a hand reached out and snatched the phone from him. Before he could process the fact that Canada had taken the phone anyway, he heard the little Canadian speak, "Al, shut up. I can hear you plain as day."

Granted the voice sounded weak and hoarse and worn out. Which made one of those familiar-yet-strange feelings hit him in the stomach again. But the tone in the voice is what made him snicker, pushing the other feeling to the side. When Gilbird flew in and settled on his shoulder, Prussia reached out to gently tap the yellow chick on the head, earning a curious chirp and responding with a grin and a nod.

He watched as Canada huffed and groaned into the phone. "No, Al, he did not drug me."

_That asshole! Thinking I would do that? Really? _

"Al, really, you need to stop yelling."

_Yeah, stop yelling! What kind of brother... _

"And boasting. If you knew anything about history, you'd realize you're not that great."

Prussia blinked at that one. _I may agree, but isn't that a little harsh?_

Canada flinched and then dropped the phone before curling back into the covers, mumbling, "If he calls again, I'm not here."

With a nod, Prussia kicked the phone under the bed and stared at the back of the Canadian, feeling those emotions starting to flare up again. Scoffing at himself, he plopped to the floor, turning around to rest his back against the bed and stare in the opposite direction. It was easy to ignore the cell phone ringing under the bed – and just as easy to smash the 'ignore' button so the fucking American would get the hint.

Shaking his head, he let himself lean back against the bed, tilting his head up to stare at the ceiling, trying not to get lost in thoughts of the good old days. "Just sleep it off," he muttered, not even sure if Canada was still awake. "If you need anything, I'll be right here."

_Whoa whoa whoa, where did that come from? That is _not_ your awesome self talking. You don't wait on anyone! Too awesome to do that! Remember what happens when you're nice to people? _

Interrupting his mind battle, Canada sighed. "Thanks."

Which made everything ten times worse. Gritting his teeth, Prussia fought it. Fought the urge to snap at him. Fought the urge to laugh and say he was kidding. Fought the normal urge to be selfish and hide his feelings.

_Why are you fighting it?_

"Hey...Can I...ask you something?"

Thankful for the break from his own internal battle, Prussia let his eyes slip closed. "Of course. Awesome Me has all the answers."

_Great. Cover up. Not like you're actually willing to answer anything he has to ask._

"Well, I was just wondering...how come if Germany was united as one nation...why...?" As the question entered the air, Prussia felt his whole body grow tense, knowing exactly what he was asking. So many people had asked that...Hell, even if he had wondered... "I'm sorry! It's okay if you don't want to answer..."

"Why am I still here?" He whispered. Narrowed his eyes. He _hated_ this question. But there was a good reason for asking it. After all, he had just admitted to wondering why himself. Of course, he had an answer for it, too. He flashed his grin even if Canada couldn't see it and chuckled. "Isn't it obvious? I'm too awesome to follow the rules."

He was a little surprised when Canada giggled back. "I guess that's one way to look at it."

"It is the _only_ way to look at it! I am Prussia. I am awesome, so I will never die."

_Though saying it out right like that..._

There was the sound of Canada moving in the bed, and the click of the glass against the table as he picked it up. Prussia let the sounds tear him from his thoughts. It was easy to banish memories and questions after he'd done it for so long. "It must be great. Not having to worry about foreign policy or your economy."

Yeah. He _had_ to laugh at that comment. "Kesese, I never worried about those things in the first place." Because he was just that awesome. "Things were simpler. War was my specialty and Old Fritz used it well." _Gott, I miss him._ "Besides, I basically unified Germany, made him great, and then stepped back as he took control. Kind of what you have to do when you raise someone. Remember England? He got hurt because he couldn't let go. Me? I got control of the army and to hell with the rest...at least...until..." Prussia felt himself choke on his own words and he lowered his head, opening eyes to stare at the floor.

So many memories. So many emotions. Too much at once. It was starting to get difficult to push it all away. Something was going to break soon.

"It's okay." He felt a hand on his shoulder and forced the grin to stay on his face, even if he couldn't make words come out anymore. "You don't have to talk about it anymore."

He didn't want to talk about it. Ever. Period. Gritting his teeth, he fought hard against the emotions, slowly pushing them down, slowly winning the battle. Shoving everything in a box and locking it tight so nothing could escape. Just his awesome self. That was all he needed.

And then Canada sighed. "To be honest..." And slid off the bed to sit next to him. "Sometimes I feel like I would much rather be in your situation."

"Of course," Prussia grinned. At least it was easy enough to ignore everything unwanted. "Everyone wants to be Prussia; I'm just that awesome."

A giggle. "I'm not sure how you do it, but I admire how you can be so optimistic of everything. Even if it really is hard on you sometimes."

A blink. Turning to stare at him. Optimistic? Was his act really that good? "Admire? No one's admired me. Not since Ludwig grew up." A soft smile. He would ignore the other part of that statement. Ignoring things was getting to be easier and easier.

"Yeah. I don't get how everyone notices you, and yet even America's own people think I'm just another one of his states." Canada flinched, a hand moving to his head, and then he leaned...leaned on Prussia's shoulder... "Ow. This really sucks."

Feelings...coming free...

He gulped, eyes wide, as he stared at the Canadian leaning on his arm, not having expected it, not sure what to do. "Um...Yeah...Shouldn't you be trying to sleep it off?"

Almost as soon as he mentioned it, Canada sprang away from him. _I knew it was just by accident._ The Canadian muttered a muffled "s-sorry..." as he climbed back on the bed, throwing the covers over his head.

"Uh. H-hey! There wasn't a...No need to..." He was starting to get frustrated. Really frustrated. He couldn't think straight, couldn't finish a sentence, and this Canada guy kept running from any touch, even if he had initiated it, making Prussia even more confused and annoyed. "Argh! You don't act anything at all like anyone else and it makes me so confused!" He snapped up to his feet, hands clenching into fists as he stared down at the shaking covers. "Just make up your mind already! All these mixed signals are throwing off my groove!"

Canada yelped. "I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to make you so upset!"

The yelp and the shaking made him cool down, stepping closer to the bed, reaching a hand out to try to calm him down or apologize or something.

"I...I...just thought...I was just trying to be nice and I thought...that maybe..."

And the stuttering and mumbling and inability of the Canadian to come out and _just fucking say_ what he wanted flared his anger and frustration. Leaning forward, he gripped at the sheets on the bed, teeth grinding again. "Hoping that what?"

"That...you would see me. That...you would talk to me and that we could...Be together..." There was another yelp. "I'm sorry! This is all my fault! I know you don't want to be here!" The stupid polar bear was next to the shaking covers now, glaring at Prussia – who was ignoring the damn bear _thank you very much. _The bear seemed focused on comforting the now crying Canadian, but Prussia wasn't paying attention.

Yeah, he was much more focused on the fact that his frustration disappeared so quickly, with nothing more than a simple blink. "I am confused. We are – h-hey! Stop that! Stop crying!"

Hardly paying attention to his movements, his hands positioned themselves on Canada's shoulders, pulling the covers down to face him, to see the tears falling down the now hanging head. Maybe he even climbed onto the bed himself, sitting just in front of Canada, who was sitting up with his back against the bed's headboard.

Prussia groaned. "Really, I don't understand any of this. Why would I not see you or talk to you or..." Something clicked in his brain. "Wait...be together?" He took a breath. "Like, together together?"

Canada blushed and sniffled, the tears successfully slowing down. "I-I...You never noticed me before yesterday, did you?" When Prussia didn't answer, Canada simply snapped, "Of course not! Because no one ever sees me! It was a miracle that America set this up!"

"Hey now, the only reason I didn't notice you is because America hogs the news as far as this area of the world is concerned – and I don't ever go to meetings seeing as I'm not legally recognized." He was biting at his lip. He was speaking before thinking – which was normal, but this was different. This wasn't his typical speak-before-thinking words. "People know who I am because I _make_ them know who I am. Hell, I could probably go out and _make_ them notice you if it bugs you that much."

To his shock, Canada stopped crying immediately, sniffing once and then looking up at him with a fire, a determination. "Teach me. Teach me how to stand out."

"Pft. Just be like me."

There was a smile. _Yes! Success!_ And Canada wiped a tear away as he spoke again, "That's just it. I don't know how to act like you."

Unaware of the awkwardness of his current position, Prussia let himself lean in so that their noses were almost touching, even if the main aim was to force Canada to look directly in his eyes. "Be. Awesome."

"I...uh..."

Keeping his serious face, he pulled back a little and started to try to explain what it meant to be awesome. "And to be awesome you have to be willing to take risks. And never back down." He had more. And he kept going.

But Canada muttered something to himself, something that Prussia barely heard. "Take risks...Got it..."

And then the world exploded as a pair of lips barely brushed against his own.

Prussia blinked, successfully stunned. He couldn't remember what he had been talking about. He couldn't remember where he was. He couldn't remember what his internal battle had been about. One side of feelings broke free without his permission. He lifted a hand to his lips, still feeling a buzz even if Canada had pulled back rather quickly.

"O-oh..." he whispered as things ever so slowly slid into place.

He blinked again, eyes staring back at Canada, letting his mind accept the feelings for once though it was so much all at once he wasn't sure what to do. And he wasn't sure where it had come from. When had he...? Why did...? "H-huh?"

"I-I'm sorry..." he heard Canada sniffle, like he was starting to cry again. "You can go home now."

Prussia found himself shaking his head as all the little pieces finally finished connecting. Without a word, he leaned forward and forced his lips back on Canada's, being a little rough and pushing him back into the headboard, but being forceful and longer on purpose, in an effort to show the other point he had made. When he broke apart, he sat back and grinned.

"Like I said, take risks and _never back down._"

To his surprise, Canada lunged forward and gripped him in a hug. He was holding tightly, nearly crushing, and Prussia's arms were trapped in the hug as well, stuck to his side so he couldn't do anything. Not that he would. The rambling French coming from Canada's mouth had him lost as hell. As much as Francis had tried to teach him French, he had never liked learning other languages if he could help it, though English had been forced on him over the recent years – as much as he fought it, still.

"Uh...what?"

Canada pulled away, letting go and wiping at the tears on his face. "I just...I don't know. That just made me so happy."

_Good. Smiles are better than tears any day._

Sitting back himself, Prussia lifted a hand and rubbed at the back of his neck. "So...you feel better then?"

He was glad to see the Canadian smile. "Oui. My head still hurts...but it's a lot better now."

"Well, that's good."

Silence filled the area between them, causing Prussia to shift his position. He didn't move his eyes though. He couldn't seem to stop staring at Canada, who seemed to be having the same problem. It was like one of those awkward moments in which neither one of them could think of something to break it.

Prussia had a good reason for not being himself. He was completely lost and confused and _still_ trying to understand the now-free emotions. What did it mean? Didn't he just kiss Canada? Without the sex? Why did he fucking go and do that...?

His thoughts were interrupted by the familiar baby polar baby biting his hand. Again. "Ahh!" He screamed, shaking the bear off and rubbing his bite-mark-ridden hand. "Fucking bear. I'll kill you..."

"I'm sorry!" Canada yelped, pulling the bear into his lap. "Kumashuto's just hungry!" _Wait, that's not his name. Is it? Ah, who cares. Damn bear... _"I haven't made him breakfast yet..."

At the realization of food, Prussia felt his own stomach growl, but before he could comment on it his little yellow chick started flying in circles around his head. He chuckled. "Got anything for birds?"

To which Canada blinked. "I'm not sure...Can he not eat pancakes?"

With a grin, Prussia looked up at his bird. "Hm...pancakes sound nice. Right, Gilbird?"

The bird tweeted back, _'Kiss him again and I'll eat whatever~' _and then it changed its flight position, flying around Canada's head instead.

Which caused him to blush and scowl and grip at the covers, refusing to answer Canada's question because he was holding back the urge to strangle the fucking bird. Thankfully, Canada didn't seem to notice, holding his hand out for the yellow chick to land on it. "I'll take that as a yes," Canada giggled, stroking the yellow feathers when Gilbird actually landed on his hand. "He's so cute. Where did you get him?"

At the question, Prussia glanced away. "A girl...gave him to me...a long time ago..."

"He really is so adorable. I bet him and Kumakichi will be great friends."

Prussia had to laugh. "Hah. Yeah, right." Getting another bite from the bear, Prussia scowled as he shook the bear off, starting to get used to the constant bear bites. "Gilbird doesn't make friends easily, especially not with a bite-happy bear."

Canada huffed. "Kuma, stop it. Remember what happened last time you kept biting everyone?" As the bear sulked and left the room, Prussia opened his mouth to ask what the hell had happened to the bear, but he was interrupted by the phone ringing from under the bed. He frowned at the same time as Canada, who sounded annoyed. "Dieu."

When the ringing continued, Prussia shifted positions on the bed so that he was no longer sitting on Canada's legs. "So...you gonna get that or what?"

"I guess I have to," Canada said with a sigh, leaning over and snatching the phone from under the bed, almost glaring at it before putting it to his ear. "Um. Bonjour?"

Prussia frowned when Canada relaxed and started talking back in quick French. He had wanted to eavesdrop. How was he supposed to eavesdrop if the damn conversation was going to be in some stupid language? Still, he shifted his position to sit next to Canada in the bed, moving his head so that he could put his ear up against the phone, too, and try to figure out who was so important to interrupt them.

"_It's nothing like that!_" Canada exclaimed, thankfully back in English, and Prussia pulled back immediately, eyes wide at hearing the little Canadian yelling. "Why do you always have to be so blunt, France?"

And then it all made sense. Prussia chuckled. "That one is always blunt. In more ways than one."

Still talking on the phone, Canada huffed. "Oui. Oui. He's right here. In bed, why?" Prussia watched Canada's eyes widen again, grinning at the red tint that absolutely covered the man's face now. "_Stop it!_" He exclaimed before throwing the phone.

Which, honestly, made Prussia crack up, because he had a pretty good idea what the conversation had been about. It wasn't hard to tell with France sometimes. He leaned over and planted a quick kiss on Canada's cheek before his brain could tell him not to. "You're hilariously cute when you're embarrassed. Kesese, so, what did he have to say?"

"Absolutely nothing. Do you want some pancakes? I'm going to go make some pancakes."

Prussia could tell that he wanted to avoid the question, but he wasn't about to let that happen. "Okay, yeah, but first you have to tell me what my old buddy France was doing calling you."

He watched as Canada froze in the doorway and sighed. "He was just being France," he muttered. "He heard from Spain about this set up and called to see if...Well...if we um..." Prussia had to grin when Canada cleared his throat, obviously unable to even say the actual words. "You know...He even tried to see if there were any kinks we used or something." There was a pause and Canada's tone went thoughtful instead of embarrassed. "In fact, now that I think about it, he didn't actually ask if anything happened. He just assumed for some reason."

Prussia grinned, slyly this time, as he flopped down on the bed, hands behind his head, knowing exactly why France would think that but not about to spill his promiscuity habits to an innocent new friend. "Well, we _could_ do something..."

Without a word, Canada simply left the room, completely ignoring him. Prussia sighed. _Well, I tried._

Gilbird started to float in the air above his face, tweeting on and on about his real feelings and how he should act and... Prussia growled at him. "Oh shut up. I'm just going slow 'cause he's new at this and I'm in the mood for something different. There's nothing else."

When the bird didn't shut up, obviously not convinced, Prussia swatted at it before hopping out of the bed, trying to get rid of the stupid flush on his face. If he weren't albino, it wouldn't be so hard to hide such things, but that damn pale skin of his...

_'You're lucky he can't read you, yet. Otherwise, he'd agree with me and maybe start acting on it himself~'_

Prussia turned a glare to the yellow chick. "Shut up or I won't give you any food."

Which earned him the bird's version of laughter as the yellow chick flew out of the room. Prussia scowled as he followed. What did a fucking bird know, anyway? Things were weird. Different. There was nothing else here.

Nothing.

~!~

_A/N: HOLY COW! I couldn't find a good place to end it. It's like over 6000 words. Ah ~ Sorry I tend to keep them around 4k. Hah! Don't kill me. For the pseudo-history, the headcanon (such as Hungary gave Gilbird to Prussia), or the rushing-ness of their relationship. _

_-OOC comment of the roleplay: ((ahhhhh i don't care if that makes sense in character or not, i fucking love the awkward caring-ness of the German brothers xDDD))- Reda  
-other OOC comment of the roleplay, after the Emperor's New Groove reference: ((Prussia should throw Canada out a window))-Kairi  
((a fake-response from Prussia: *is...standing up now b/c i say so even if he wasn't before i don't care* *throws Canada out the window...no wait, that's the crack talking, back up*))-Reda_

_Review Replies:(omg 10 for one chapter! ~ happy day ~)_

Mabel: Yay! Drunk!Canada is funny! And I love big brother America, too ~ Thanks for the review!

_seqka711: Hooray! I know; I love their cuteness. ^_^_

Darcy Cole: Thanks for the review! Glad you love it!

_Sami199: We used 'eh' correctly? Yay! That's great to know! And, yes, it's totally 'body warmth' hehe Thanks for the review!_

_Guest: Uh...I didn't get your email...it doesn't show up through reviews...cause ffnet is overprotective like that...Thanks for reviewing though, and I'm glad you're enjoying it. Hope you find a way to keep track of updates. _

_iivogelchen: haha! Yes! Win! (I'm glad someone else likes the Digimon movie part haha, I'm such a 90s kid getting all nostalgic over those days...) Glad to hear you found drunk!Canada hilarious. Thanks for your review!  
_

_Inka-Chan: He is definitely awesome when drunk. And he probably does have some kind of weird trauma from France telling him weird things, lol. Yeah, we all want smut. Smexy PruCan smut. Don't worry, it happens ;) ...eventually..._

_Wolfie338: Thanks for the review, again. ^^ I love Prussia's reaction there, too, like 'oh crap don't kill me'_

_Ashe Nightshade: I swear you have the most energetic reviews I've ever seen. Thanks for the review. And keep fighting with my sister over Canada. I'll just snuggle Prussia while y'all are busy, lol. _

_Hetaliafangirl1113: Why does everyone steal Canada? Haha! Go, fangirls, duke it out, I'll just sit here and watch, really. XD Thanks for the review!_

_~~Thank you for all the alerts/favorites/reviews~~_

_~Reda_


	7. Chapter 7

**Author Notes****:**

-Hehe

-I have no idea how long this is going to be. Let me give an idea. There are 103 threads in our role-play. With 1 being the END and 103 being the BEGINNING, we are now at 80. Yeah. Wut?

-Sound track for this chapter: Linkin Park "Minutes to Midnight" - put "In Between" on repeat once I got to it. Specifically the words: "between my pride and my promise" - seemed appropriate. xD

**One Shot Gift Fic****:**

**-**I have decided that every 50th reviewer gets a free one-shot fic from me. And, yes, it can be anything, though you can look on my profile and see what pairings I like. It doesn't necessarily have to be a pairing fic, either. I'm open to whatever. Really. REALLY. So, every 50 reviews. And we're coming up to review 50 soon. Good luck ~

~!~

One Month

Chapter 7

~!~

When Prussia walked into Canada's kitchen, he was met with a different sight than what he remembered last time Canada was making food. The man was wearing an apron this time. A pink apron. He took a moment to stop and stare and enjoy the view, imagining what Canada would like in a full maid outfit like Hungary's – or even with just the pink apron on and nothing else.

He hummed a bit to himself and then pulled away from the imagery, seeing as it was leading him down a certain path he didn't want to deal with right now, since he wouldn't get to act on any of it. Instead he leaned against the side of the open doorway, still in the same clothes as yesterday, though he'd lost the hat somewhere along the way and he probably needed a shower. But he could do that later. Right now, there was food to eat and a certain Canadian to stare at.

"I wonder how many people are going to call you when they hear about me being over," Prussia said into the silence.

It was a genuine curiosity. Obviously Canada didn't know about Prussia's tendencies, but the rest of the world did. War, sex, and parties. Life didn't need much more than that these days. Except here he was being completely content with a kiss that didn't lead anywhere – and with simply staring at the person he wanted, like he was following some kind of no-touch policy, and happy to do so.

As if on cue, his own cell phone started to ring, blaring the Prussian Nation Anthem, indicating someone who hadn't called him before – or someone he didn't think important enough to add as a contact with a personalized ring tone. Now who would...? As he moved to answer it, Canada called from his position on the other side of the kitchen where he was busy being an expert pancake-cooker.

"I still stand by what I said earlier, eh. About how if it's America, I'm not here."

Prussia nodded, but he kind of didn't expect Canada's brother to be calling _him_. Especially now. After the drunken phone call last night and the pissed off hung over Canadian today. Still, he wasn't expecting the annoying bastard who _did_ call him, either.

"Ve~ Prussia? Did you two hit it off yet?"

Oh, he could _feel_ his eye twitch at the sound of that annoying sing-song voice. "...Why the hell do you have my number?"

"I got it from Germany silly~ So did you and uh...America's brother get together yet? Are you having fun over there? Are you going to stay there forever and ever now?"

Oh he saw where this was going. "What the hell?" He snapped back. "Is that what you want? You trying to get rid of me?"

"Ve~ Are you really going to stay over there for a month~? Germany bet me that you weren't gonna stay for even a week~"

"Hah! He said that, did he? What would he say if I ended up loving it over here? What if Canada ends up better than home? Would he miss me?"

"Ve~ Prussia, did you ever clean your room at all while you were here? 'Cause Germany's been in there all day, and he said he won't come out until it's done~"

"Why do you care? You don't live there."

"Sure I do~ Aren't you living with America's brother?"

By now, he could feel his teeth grinding against each other and when he snapped again he pushed himself away from the doorway and stomped on the floor. "Get the fuck out of my house! Gah! Why does my brother even _like_ you?"

There was a pause, a very short pause, but a pause nevertheless. Apparently their questioning banter was coming to an end. "Why are you asking me that? I-I don't know!"

And Prussia couldn't stay still. He had to start walking around as he talked, not really paying attention to where he walked, just moving somewhere. "How do you not know why someone hangs around with you? Are you aware of how far from awesome you and your country have been? I mean, seriously, what do people think of when you combine Italy and greatness? They think of Rome. Not you. You've got nothing on the history books."

"I...I do too have greatness! There was...that one time...with..."

"Keh. Don't even try." He stopped walking, as if standing still could make his voice sound even more smug.

"I-I-I-" there was a yelp from the Italian and the sound of the phone switching hands...and then Germany's voice came over the line. "Who is this, and what did you say to Feliciano?"

Prussia grinned and immediately started walking again. "Oh hi, West, so glad to hear from you!" His free hand started to make motions in the air as he talked and made circles around the kitchen table, not that he was happy to be talking to his brother or anything. "How's my room? Any particular reason you're cleaning it up?"

He could hear West huff. "_Bruder_, what did you say to Italy this time? Why does he always end up crying when you talk to him?"

"Meh. I'm not going to repeat myself," Prussia said, stopping his movements again, not even realizing that he was standing behind Canada, facing the other direction but standing behind the quiet Canadian nonetheless. "Besides, isn't he always crying? Does that turn you on or something to have someone cry so you can comfort him? I did not raise you to-"

He was interrupted by two things.

First: West sighing into the phone. "_Bruder_, you don't know anything."

Secondly: Canada squeaked, bringing attention to his presence right behind him. Which also made Prussia realize a lot of things all at once. "Hey, what's the matter with y-" He turned to see Canada fighting back his own tears. Sensitive as hell. Always crying.

And then it really started to click. "Oh, you're..."

He had just made fun of Italy for the same thing. He had just shown his complete disapproval, his annoyance, his near _hate_ for the always-crying aspect of his brother's Italian lover. Beyond that, he had spouted off insults at Italy without even realizing that they could probably describe Canada, too.

For some reason, he could barely keep his grip on the phone. "Oh..." he whispered, starting to back away from the Canadian, meeting those tear-filled eyes and feeling that familiar-yet-strange hold on his heart. "Oh, I..."

_You made him cry. You really did it this time. It's all your fault. Look at what you do. You're a terrible person. How could you hurt him? He's been so nice and all you do is lash out and make him hurt. _

His back hit a wall and he found himself taking short breathes of air, like he couldn't get a good deep breath to save his life. "I get it."

He winced again when Canada turned away, dropping the cooking utensils, turning the stove off with shaking hands. "I-I'll just...G-go then..." His voice was shaking as he stepped out of the room and then there was the sound of racing footsteps and the slam of a door.

Prussia's hand was reaching out for him. "No wait!" _What do I say? You always know what to say! Why can't you think of something to say now? _"I..." His eyes noticed his hand reaching out and he blinked and stared at it, wondering when he did that, wondering what it meant. He heard a sigh in his ear and realized he was still on the phone, his voice constricting around his throat as he forced himself to whisper. "West, what do I do?"

"What do you mean? What did you do?" West seemed a little preoccupied and there were the sounds of sniffling in the background, more than likely from Italy.

_Fuck, you know exactly how to hit people where it hurts without even touching them. Weren't you proud of that? Why does it suddenly matter now? Think!_

"I figured it out, West. I-I understand...What you see in Italy..." He couldn't breathe. He couldn't focus. He couldn't think. There was so much guilt. "A-and all those things I said..." So much fucking guilt. His legs became useless, unable to hold him up anymore, so he slipped down to sit with his back against the wall, keeping his eyes on the floor. "West, what do I do damn it?"

There was a sigh from West on the other end. "All right. First, go talk to him. Tell him that you were wrong – and do _not_ let him bring himself down. Hold him close, and don't talk about how great you are. The rest, depends on the person."

_You just got advice from your brother. Use it this time._

He closed his eyes and let out his breath, finding himself finally able to take a deeper gulp of air and control his breathing now. "Right. Okay. Uhm..." He let the air out in one final rush. "...thanks." And then he closed the phone and dropped it to the floor, his hand immediately going to his hair, digging through the mess of white spikes.

_You have advice. Put it to use. _

_Ah, yes, but where to start? _

_Stand up and go talk to him, duh. That's what West said, right?_

_Right, but..._

_But what? Are you chickening out? Are you going to sit here and let him cry in the other room because of something you said? You hurt him! Go fix it!_

_I know, but..._

_Stop second-guessing yourself! You're the Great Prussia, aren't you? Get your ass up off this floor and go talk to him! Fuck, if you would just admit your feelings, maybe this whole mess wouldn't have happened!_

_...What the hell is that supposed to mean?_

_You know how you feel! Stop pushing it down, stop hiding it, stop running from it! Coward! You talk about how awesome you are and you tell him to take risks but you can't even do that yourself. You kissed him back, didn't you? You know what that means, don't you? Why can't you just go tell him? _

_I..._

_Get your ass up off this floor, soldier! Get up and apologize! That's an order!_

Gritting his teeth, Prussia pulled himself up to his feet, listening to his own mental battle, giving in to the voice in his head. His heart was pumping fast, like he was nervous or something, but he was on his feet now. He clenched his hands into fists and called upon the good old Prussian determination, pushing away everything that didn't matter. He was good at pushing feelings away, after all.

_Oh don't you do that again._

Before he could take a step, the voice came back, loud and insistent.

_You know what I mean. Let those feelings come back. You should feel guilty for what you did. And that big one that you seem so scared of, you know the one that made you kiss him before you could hold it back? Don't throw that away, either. _

_But-_

_Don't you argue with me, soldier!_

For some reason, being referred to as a soldier made him stiffen up, made his determination strong, made him listen to the loud voice in his head. Most of all, it reminded him of Old Fritz. And that was one voice he _had _to listen to.

Trying to follow all the advice, Prussia collected himself and slowly made his way down the hallway to Canada's bedroom. He pushed the door open, thanking all the gods in the world that it wasn't locked. It opened with a squeak but he focused on the figure curled on the bed. Didn't he just comfort him? From earlier? When he gave his own advice? But this was different...This was because of his own brash mouth. He had to fix this. He had no idea if this was going to work, pretty certain it was going to end up terribly, but he had to try.

"Hey, Canada?" He winced slightly, hanging in the doorway and realizing that he didn't actually know the man's human name. He would have preferred to use that, seeing as country names could be rather impersonal – and the nickname wouldn't have been such a great thing, either. "Uhm..."

The Canadian answered him in between hiccuping sobs. "Y-you ca-can go h-home now..."

He winced again. "Look." _Of course he wants me gone; why does it hurt to know he wants me to leave? _With a shake of his head, Prussia stepped forward. "I'm...sorry." He sat down on the bed, staring at the huddled mass. "Those things I said...Well...I didn't mean them for you and uh, I wasn't thinking. And I – Gotverdamt! I suck at this!" A hand went to his hair again, tugging on the white mess in his frustration.

_You really do suck at apologizing, don't you?_

He almost growled at the voice in his mind, but then Canada spoke again. "I k-know what you meant. You don't want anything to do with me. I'm just America's brother, and that's it."

"No! That's not it at all!" The words came out before he could even put them together in his brain. "You're way more than America's brother! You're...you're you..." He grimaced as soon as he realized what he said. How did that statement even make sense?

For some reason, Canada reacted positively, climbing out of the covers. "Y-you really m-mean that...?"

"Yeah of course. I always mean what I say!" He bit the inside of his cheek in an effort to stop the habitual words from coming out. West had said not to talk about himself. So there was no need to add the typical, 'because I'm awesome.'

"B-But if you always mean what you s-say then...When you s-said that to Italy..."

"Uh...well..." _Yeah, how do you explain it now? _"I meant that, too, but that's in the past now. I, well, I don't mean that anymore." _You should know that's the dumbest thing to say._

"I'm sorry I'm such a nobody," Canada said, throwing the covers over himself again as if to escape Prussia's stare.

_Now what are you going to do?_

_Shut up and let me think damn it!_

With a grimace, Prussia reached out and set a hand on top of the covers, lightly patting the huddled mass underneath. "Hey, you're not a nobody; you may be overshadowed and forgotten but uh...You know what?" _I can't believe I'm about to say this..._ "I'm the same way now. Hell, even before I was awesome I was just a special nobody crusading out on my own without any real land. Maybe you can – well – uh – I think you're awesome even if the world doesn't yet."

_That made no fucking sense..._

_Shut up! I can't think straight!_

Two eyes and a bouncing hair curl peeked out from the covers. "Why are you doing this? I mean...why are you trying so hard?"

"Well because I..." He felt the blush forming on his face, growing hotter and redder the minute he recognized it was there.

_Admit it. Admit it. This is your chance. Admit it!_

_I..._

_Don't be a coward, soldier! You're better than that!_

He tensed and looked away, refusing to meet Canada's eyes, hearing his voice escape in the quietest whisper he'd probably ever expressed in the history of his existence. "Ilikeyou."

_Oh come on..._

The confession was made worse by Canada's reaction. When the Canadian sat up and just _stared_ at him, Prussia felt his face heat even more. "What?"

_He's going to make me repeat it!_

_Of course he is. You barely made a noise the first time._

Unable to take it any longer, Prussia shot up off the bed and started pacing around the room, refusing to look over at the bed, at Canada. He kept his eyes on the ground, watching his feet. His hands were lost in their own motion as he talked, not that he needed more expression at this point. "I like you. I know we just met but I want to know more about you. You're like this new mystery that I can't understand and...and...I don't really know the right way to go about this so..." Suddenly, he froze his position and faced Canada straight on, staring right at those wide blue-violet-eyes. He clenched his teeth and kept his hands straight by his side. "There. I said it."

_There you go._

"And...you're not just saying that?"

"No, I'm not just saying it!" Prussia snapped, noticing Canada's blush and making his own grow to the point that he could feel heat all the way down his neck now. "Do you not realize how hard it is for me to say stuff like that?"

_You always were cute when you were flustered._

"I-I'm sorry," Canada said with a slight flinch. "I just...No one has ever said that to me before..."

Prussia huffed, ignoring both the voice in his mind and the little flinch from the Canadian. "Good. At least I don't have competition."

Canada smiled and started wiping the tears away. "Merci...Really..."

Before Prussia could respond or come up with something else to say, the sound of a growling stomach interrupted his thoughts. Of course it hadn't come from him, but the blush from Canada revealed its true source and he couldn't help but grin. "Right. Food!" He took a step toward the door but then dropped the grin and looked to Canada. "...so was that a yes?"

_Not that you actually asked him anything..._

To his relief, Canada nodded. "O-oui." But he wouldn't meet his eyes, like he was embarrassed or just as nervous.

Before he could react, that _stupid fucking bear_ attacked his leg, though he was pretty certain by now that the bear hated him, especially whenever Canada was crying – or had been crying. "Argh!" He exclaimed, shaking his leg, kicking out to make the bear let go, scowling and reaching for it. "I _swear_ I'm going to kill you this time."

Yelping, Canada jumped off the bed and picked the bear up before Prussia could get his hands on it. This, of course, had them standing right in front of each other. "Kuma! Be nice!" He was happy to meet Canada's eyes when the man finally looked up at him, but Canada didn't seem to be really looking at him. "I'm sorry. He should have warmed up to you by now..."

_Keh. Warmed up to me? I doubt he'll ever like me._

As he stood there and growled, a familiar tweeting bird flew into the room, flying around Prussia's head once before hovering in front of the bear. Kumajiro snapped out at the bird, as if trying to eat him. Prussia noticed and was about to warn Gilbird, but his yellow chick was ever the risk-taker and was having too much fun shouting at the polar bear, floating closer and closer to the bear's jaws.

Still, it came as a shock when the fucking polar bear _actually _caught Gilbird in his mouth and struggled out of Canada's grip to run out of the room, yellow chick trapped in its jaws. "Kumachiki!"

It took Prussia half a second to react, forgetting everything and chasing after the polar bear for the second time since he'd been in Canada's house. The only difference this time was that there was actually something worth while to chase after, not just a good meal. "Let him go you fucking bear! Hungary will be pissed at me if you eat him! Shit!"

_Hungary will? What? She stopped caring about you and the bird a long time ago..._

Pushing the voice to the side, Prussia found himself outside again, standing at the bottom of a very familiar tree. "I swear if you eat my bird..." He growled, glaring up at the closed-mouthed baby polar bear, grabbing a hold of the tree and starting to climb up the trunk.

Before he could really get anywhere though, a bottle of maple syrup came flying through the air, knocking into the baby polar bear's head and thankfully causing him to drop Gilbird. Prussia felt his heart slow considerably when he saw his yellow chick flying through the air again. He put his feet back on the ground and raised a hand to let the tweeting and pissed off bird land on his finger.

He couldn't find anything to say, preferring to just stand and watch his best friend in the whole world. Gilbird ruffled his feathers and started cleaning them, ranting away about the stupid bear, and Prussia just smiled and leaned back against the tree trunk, slowly sliding down to sit against it.

He did catch Canada's shout aimed at the bear, "You can stay in that tree," before the Canadian stomped back into the house.

And he had to look up at the bear and stick his tongue out. "Nya, nya, he likes me more."

Of course, the bear seemed much more interested in the bottle of syrup, but Prussia didn't care. Everything was okay now. Gilbird was safe. His mind wasn't a constant battle ground warring over certain feelings. He'd finally confessed and Canada had seemed to accept it – seemed glad to accept it – so everything was fine.

Not that anything was truly official.

But at least this interesting month was going to be a different kind of interesting than he originally thought. It was going to be a _good_ kind of interesting. He could deal with that. He still had a lot to sort out mentally, but for now...well...

It was a start.

~!~

Canada tried to sort through his emotions as he worked on the pancakes. That had been the last thing he had expected from Prussia. Of all people, why would the battle-loving, risk-taking, crazy, loud albino like _him_? Him of all people? It was like a dream come true and he wasn't sure why he was so happy.

Or so calm and accepting.

For some reason, he had been wanting that. But even he didn't know why he was so happy to hear those words from Prussia's mouth. It wasn't a love confession or anything. It was just a simple "I like you." Which could mean anything. Well, at least it meant that Prussia didn't hate him; it meant that they could at least be friends, right?

That was all he wanted, after all.

Sure, he'd researched the Prussia Empire, but he'd done that for a reason. A real, logical, practical reason. Why would someone research a nation that had fallen? It was the same reason so many people poured into Rome's past. To keep themselves from falling into the same situation.

He'd been simply curious as to why Prussia still existed when Rome and Germania and others had disappeared. He'd thought maybe Prussia would have an answer. But if the only answer was "because I'm too awesome" then apparently even the albino himself didn't know.

Obviously, Matthew's subconscious had insisted there had been more. Apparently, some deep part of him longed to see Prussia smile – a real, happy, genuine smile, not that wide laughing grin he wore so often. He wanted to see parts of the albino that everyone else insisted didn't exist.

And he had seen one of those parts just now.

After all, had anyone else seen Prussia so flustered before? He wasn't sure, but he did know that such a reaction had never been used in the description of the albino ex-nation. A big question, then, was why had Prussia shown that to him? And an even bigger question was why did Canada _want_ to see beyond Gilbert's typical brash act?

Why did he want to know more? It was like he was growing obsessed. Surely he had just wanted a friend, and since he was so invisible to the rest of the world he had figured that he could make good friends with an ex-nation that so many others tried to ignore.

So why did he want more?

He could feel his face blush at the next question to hit his brain.

Why had he kissed him?

Why had he been so happy when Prussia kissed back?

It was...

Was it...?

Biting his lip, Canada shook his head and then smiled, filling two plates with pancakes before turning the technology off. This had been an attempt from his brother to hook him up. This had been America's idea to take it further than friendship. Even if Gilbert had made a bet to stay here for a month... Maybe "I like you" meant things could go further.

And maybe Canada was happy to let it go further.

No, he was more than happy. He was ecstatic at the possibilities.

Pancakes in hand, he walked outside, smiling when he saw the red-eyed white-haired ex-nation sitting against the tree trunk with the yellow bird cleaning itself, resting on his finger. Canada walked forward and handed Prussia one of the plates, but he kept himself from looking into those eyes. "Here. We can eat out here if you'd like..."

With a chirp, the bird moved from Prussia's finger to Canada's arm. As the ex-nation took the plate, Canada sat down next to him, smiling at the yellow chick on his arm even as Prussia exclaimed, "All right! Food time!'

Slowly digging in himself, Canada laughed lightly at Gilbert's childish reaction. He watched the yellow chick clean its feathers, hopping occasionally along his arm and tweeting every once in a while. "So, he doesn't talk or anything?"

There was a moment before Prussia answered, but Canada chalked that up to the fact that the albino was currently busy stuffing his face. "Nah. He's a normal bird... 'cept for the living forever part. That's part of what makes him awesome like me."

_Ah. I get it. So the bird lives on against all rules that say he should have died a long time ago, like you._

Keeping the smile, Canada cut off a small piece of the pancake and held it up for the bird. "So how did you find him? He's so adorable."

While the bird started nipping at the food, Prussia answered. "Eh. Well. Hungary gave him to me when she...uh...well...before she married Austria." Canada looked over to him, catching the light grin and the distant look. "...the only present I ever got from her."

"Awe, that was nice of her. Did you ever get her anything?"

"Uh well. I got her a lot of things. Especially when we were kids." Prussia laughed at that, obviously remembering a funny memory. "She tended to throw them back at me, though." There was a pause and Canada blinked when the ex-nation turned his head to look away. "Did you know I proposed to her way before Austria got to it? The ring was something she threw at me."

_Oh...so it's like that..._

He felt his eyes widen and he looked away, opening his mouth to say something else but deciding against it. Instead he turned back to his food and started to eat again, slower this time. Very slow.

_I didn't realize he liked someone else..._

Breaking his thoughts, the yellow chick jumped on his food plate and started tweeting emphatically. Loud. Insistent. He could only stare back, having no idea what was going on.

"It's like he's trying to tell me something," he mumbled.

When Prussia coughed, he glanced over to see the pale man trying to hide a blush. "Heh. Yeah."

Tilting his head in curiosity, Canada turned back to the bird. Could Prussia understand the chick? If they'd been together for so long, maybe he could. But then why would he blush? What was the yellow bird trying to say? And why wouldn't Prussia clarify for him?

Was it some secret? Was Prussia glad that Canada couldn't understand?

He could only blink and stare, curious to know, wishing he could translate the tweets and chirps. From now on, he would have to pay attention to Prussia's reactions whenever the bird tried to say something. Because there was definitely something important that he was missing.

If only Prussia would tell him. Then he wouldn't have to be so worried, or so confused. Then maybe he could understand his own feelings, his own mixed and confused and _wanting_...

Feeling his own blush, Canada shoo'd the bird off his plate and went back to eating. This month really _was_ going to be interesting, and it had barely started.

For some reason, he couldn't wait to see what else was in store.

~!~

_A/N: Oh, notice how Prussia's inward thoughts are two conflicting voices? There's the "I..." and there's the "you..." My brain filled in the 'you' eventually as being Old Fritz trying to smack some sense in to him, but you are completely free to interpret it however you want. _

_Next chapter: USUK...and USUK semi-smut. It's actually quite funny. It takes my sister and I a while to feel comfortable role-playing smut. In the beginning, if you recall, Prussia interrupts GerIta before anything can happen. And in the USUK chapter...well...my sister stopped it early because I made her be the "seme" (not that I really accept those seme/uke labels anymore). The PruCan smut that eventually happens, though, is when we were completely comfortable with it and it came out...well...you'll see when we get there..._

_-OOC comment: __((_THANK YOU JESUS I've BEEN WAITING FOR A LIGHTBULB MOMENT! I DON'T CARE IF ITS FAST I FUCKING WANT THIS XD)) – Reda

_Kairi:_ _Hey. Hey, Hey. I'm a Uke through-and-through. It's not my fault I ended it early with "they screw each other senseless" ...oh wait... that is my fault xD_

_I love how our Question War came out~ Like, that part with the Prussia-Italy phone call. Yeah, Reda said something about how they were only asking questions and I was all like 'challenge accepted' And then...Prussia started being an ass xD _

_I GIVE UP! You all can fight for Canada! Spain is mine bishes!_

_Review Replies: _

_-Okay for Chapter6, I got a couple of Guest/Anon reviews and I've decided (sorry) to respond only if you give me a name to work with, because it'd be way too confusing to say "guest1" "guest2" and so on...So yeah. I'm going to do it this time. And if you go to the review page, click chapter 6, and start from the bottom – that's how I respond to my reviews – so it's in the order of who reviewed first. For next time, if you review anonymously – give me some kind of name to reply to, please?_

_Kairi-Yajuu2: Oh, you. _

_seqka711: Thank you! I hope it's still awesome! :D _

_Guest(1): I know! They finally kissed! I thought it was sweet that it was Canada who instigated it, especially after Prussia's "take risks" advice. (Though you could blame my sister for getting impatient with me, I guess xD)._

_Guest(2): The official reason for Kumajiro biting Prussia is because he hates Prussia – and he hates Prussia because Prussia keeps making Canada upset. There's a video for a country song "Little Moments" and one of the stories brings up a girl who has a dog who bit her husband in the ankle...and the guy is like "she still doesn't like me...the dog..." (actually my sis and I made an AMV/slideshow thing to this song). But that's pretty much the idea. Kuma will never like Prussia. Unofficial reason: I blame my sister because she controls Kuma. Then again, he could be a huge cock-block, too, and be really annoying. I dunno. Thanks for the review!_

_love1398: Thank you thank you thank you! Glad you love it ;D And I'm glad Canada is adorable! _

_black snow rose: Your avatar is adorable...cute kitty~ And yes! Finally someone to say Prussia is cute when he's confused and flustered! All these comments on cute-Canada have left me yearning for some Prussia-love, too. I think France is hilarious, personally, even if he's really rude. And, yes, America is that asshat older brother. And, technically, Gilbird doesn't talk, really; it's just that Prussia can understand him because he's awesome like that~_

_lilredd3394: Thanks for the review! I think we should all give Mattie a hug~ Or maybe we should force Prussia to do it already~_

_Guest(3): Snarky is the perfect word to describe Gilbird. I love it! _

_BlueRavenQuill: So how was this chapter? Things are slowly coming along. I'm obsessed with really slow paced love stories (I mean, I adore Kimi ni Todoke which is like ahhh~), and I feel like this is too fast. Then I look and realize I'm on chapter 7. Heh...Thanks for the review!_

_Guest(4): Yes, just keep checking regularly. I'm glad it was cute! Yay~ Oh, and I showed my sister (the one who is control of our Canada here) your review and she agrees that she did make him cry too much. I've tried to turn it into a plot point, so we'll see how it works. And don't worry about poking at us if something feels off. Some things are drilled too deep in the story already, but there's a lot we can tweak and improve as we continue this little adventure, so please, don't feel bad for pointing that out. :)_

_Sami199: Thanks! I would throw the phone, too. I have fun trying to imagine what France was telling him there. Haha. _

_~~As always, thanks for all reviews/favorites/alerts; they are really appreciated~~_

_~Reda_


	8. Chapter 8

**Author Notes****:**

-USUK time

-Wow. Tsundere thoughts. Just wow.

-There is a little political talk in this chapter. I don't say names or anything but my views may come out a bit. (I live in America and I'm a Ron Paul fanatic, in case you're wondering.)

-I made a PruCan video to make up for the fact that there's no PruCan in this chapter. Haha, me. My youtube account is "Reda1417" and the video/song used is "You Belong With Me" (Taylor Swift) - it's PruCan/ anti-PruHun and it actually (Spoiler alert) fits more with the sequel to this story (/end spoiler).

-Soundtrack (what I mean by this, by the way, is what I'm listening to when I'm writing):  
Muse, The Resistance (full album)  
Lord of the Rings soundtrack: Into the West, Edge of Night

-Enjoy

**Warnings****:**

-There is semi-smut in this chapter. Actually, it probably couldn't even be classified as real smut. It's just terrible teasing. Terrible on purpose evil teasing. It's toward the end and not very detailed before it's cut off suddenly, but it's there. Kind of. There is a page-break (looks like: ~!~) if you start reading and get squeamish and want to skip ahead to the next scene.

~!~

One Month

Chapter 8

~!~

"I'm gonna...kick...his ass..."

Arthur blinked and looked over to where America was still sound asleep on the bed. He sighed when he realized that Alfred was talking in his sleep – and probably having a dream about Prussia and Canada, too, about confronting Prussia for getting his brother drunk. Which made England frown and sigh again.

After spending the entire night waking up every two or three hours to check up on Alfred's brother, England was quite sick of the over-protective brother side of America. He had been up all night trying to calm Alfred down, trying to tell him to leave the two alone, trying to explain that of course Prussia would aim for a drunk party but nothing would come of it now that Canada's virginity was no longer a secret. Yes, he'd been up all night _trying_ to get America to listen.

All.

Night.

Despite himself, Arthur huffed as he got dressed in a white button-down shirt and khaki slacks. Nice but not overly nice. Of course he was the only one to dress like a gentleman between him and America. Not through lack of trying, but Alfred loved his T-shirts and jeans and super casual too much.

Not that he _really_ minded and not that he wanted to see Alfred in nice clothes occasionally, either. Except he did. But some things were easy to wish for and hard to make reality. Especially when it came to America.

With one last long look over at the sleeping oaf – sprawled out all over his bed with the covers tangled in his legs and hardly doing their job – England decided to step out and make some breakfast. He had a bit of a headache and cooking always helped him relax, no matter how good the food was when he finished.

Once in the kitchen, he got to work immediately, finding the nearest apron and pulling dishes out along with all the required ingredients to make his most famous scones. He soon lost himself in his work, letting his mind drift as his hands went about the not-difficult-task of cooking.

That is, until a certain boisterous American decided to grace the scene and turn off all the kitchen appliances, thereby making all his hard work mean nothing. "Dude! Iggy!"

He scowled at the nickname.

"What are you doing? Are you _trying _to make the house explode?"

_Of all the nerve..._

Crossing his arms, he deepened his scowl. "I was cooking, you bloody wanker."

He met America's raised eyebrow stare with a narrowed-eyed glare. "What have I told you about trying to cook?"

"I don't believe you have a right to tell me what to do," he muttered while turning away from him.

_Why does he always do this whenever I cook? It's not like my food is that terrible..._

Before he could continue his train of thought, he felt himself picked up off the floor, trapped in the strong arms of a certain American. "I'm the hero, so of course I can tell you what to do!"

"H-hey! Put me down!" He complained but didn't _really_ struggle to get free. And, no, there was _not_ a blush on his face from the contact.

Of course, America was going to point it out no matter how much he denied it...and he did it while laughing, too as if there was something funny about this situation. "No, it's too much fun. Plus, you're adorable when you're blushing!"

Yes, his eyebrow was most assuredly twitching now. No, he was not still blushing. "I swear, America, if you don't put me down right now..."

He could feel Alfred's breath on the back of his neck now. And the feeling of his back being pressed up against America's chest was...well...no, it was not a good feeling and yes, of course he wanted to be put down right away. It was warm because of the heat in the kitchen. No. Other. Reason.

"Or what?" He focused on America's voice to try to fight the other unwanted feelings. "You gonna put a spell on me?"

He scowled to hide his groan. For some reason, the sound of Alfred's voice so close to his ear was...

_No, damn it, stop thinking about it!_

"I just might if you don't stop acting like such a child!" He snapped, moving his arms to try to break free of America's grip.

Which only earned him a laugh. "Yeah, right."

And then the brat had to start _tickling_. And of course it had to make _him_ start laughing. He snorted as he giggled and put a hand up to his mouth as if he could stop it. Of course, his other hand was busy trying to push back America's invasive ticklish fingers.

"S-stop that! Bloody hell l-let go..."

"Why should I? It's too much fun! Besides, you know you love it!"

"D-do not!"

This was getting ridiculous. There were tears popping out of the corners of his eyes because he was laughing so hard. He kept struggling, pushing back against America to try to force him to let go, or at least break the grip. At this point, he didn't care about positioning or movements or what leaning forward as he pushed back looked like. He just wanted to breathe normally again and stop this absurdly childish game.

Thanking his luck, America lost his balance and dropped his hold, causing the both of them to fall to the floor in a tangle of limbs. Lying on his side, trying to catch his breath, England was not expecting Alfred to turn him on his back and be sitting on top of him, hovering over him and grinning like he'd just won a prize.

Of course, _now_ he noticed positioning – and it caused his face to flame bright red.

America grinned. "You're just too adorable, Iggy," he said right before he leaned down and kissed England on the cheek, which, honestly, did _not_ help the heat in his face.

"Bloody wanker," he nearly whispered.

Which made him receive a curious look from America. "What does that even mean, anyway? I swear, dude, you make up the weirdest words sometimes..."

"Pft. You never did grow up, did you? Taking my language before proceeding to murder it and claim I'm the one to make up words." Gritting his teeth, Arthur reached a hand up to push against America's shoulder. "Now let me up."

"That's because I'm the hero, of course!" Alfred responded before shaking his head. "And, no, you wanted to be put down, didn't you?"

"This is not what I meant!" He sighed and glanced away from those bright blue eyes. "There you go again with the hero line..."

"You know you love it!" Alfred exclaimed joyfully as he proceeded to snuggle against him.

England made sure to keep his face turned away from those eyes. "Do not," he scoffed. "What ever gave you that idea?"

"Well the fact that you're blushing was a bit of hint," America said with a bit of a laugh. The very _reminder_ made it impossible to keep his face clear. Oh, this was so ridiculous! "But what really gave it away was when you agreed to move in with me!"

Still refusing to look at him, England huffed. "This was strictly a business move."

"Awe that's hurtful. I'm hurt. You're mean." Oh god, he could _hear_ the pouting.

In fact, when he gave in and turned to look at him, he could feel his eye twitch at the sight of Alfred sticking his tongue out. "Oh grow up already!"

What he did not expect was the slight flinch from America. "I did grow up! I grew up a long time ago!" He felt his eyes widen when a blond-haired blue-eyed American glanced away and mumbled, "You of all people should know that."

_Ah. Ow. _

He winced, not intending to have brought up _that_ memory. Sometimes he could still feel the rain from that day. Even if it was in the past and even if it was behind them – it was still a memory. Still something to make him wonder why...

Still, he could keep the conversation more playful and less painful. Easy enough. "I don't know. Sometimes I wonder if your brother isn't more mature." Of course he had to sigh and add, "Though I suppose it is my fault. I didn't raise you too well."

"You raised me well you just..." America paused and sat up, no longer hovering over Arthur anymore. For his part, he couldn't decide if it was a good thing or not. "...you got a little power-happy is all." Now America had climbed off of him, though he was still sitting on the floor, and he sighed. "This conversation is getting a little awkward."

England had to agree as he sat up himself. "Yeah. Awkward."

It was then that Alfred grinned. "How about some breakfast?"

_I was kind of in the middle of that, you twat._

"I'll make it this time, 'kay?"

England sighed and gave in, standing up and moving to sit at the table. "Fine then." He was most certainly _not_ pouting. He put his elbow on the table and rested his chin in the palm of his hand, not to frown and pout. Most certainly not. "Why does everyone have a problem with my cooking?"

"Because it's terrible."

As America stood up and went about working on making breakfast his way, England felt his jaw drop at the comment.

_I give you points for honesty but I take points for being so blunt._

"It is not! I happen to love my cooking!"

"Well, of course you love your own stuff. But no one else does."

He glared at the back of the self-righteous American. "That doesn't make it terrible."

"Yes it does," Alfred countered.

"They don't have to love it; it may not be the best, but it's _not_ terrible," Arthur huffed, sitting back in his chair as he made his points.

He could almost predict the eye roll, even if he couldn't see it. "Yeah? Then why doesn't anybody else eat it?"

"Ah-" He cut off his statement when the words refused to come. _He has a point. No one else eats my food. America used to as a kid, but now...he's gotten pickier. It's all that fast food. It's ruined him! But...the rest of the world doesn't agree with me, either._

_Bollocks._

_Why does he always win?_

As he fumed in his chair, America finished breakfast and placed a plate of eggs and bacon down in front of him. "Here! Good ole' American breakfast!"

With one bite, he knew he was most assuredly beaten in this argument. The flavor exploded on his tongue. "This is amazing. I didn't know you were a first rate cook."

Something about that statement felt incredibly familiar. In fact, he was experiencing _de ja vu_ now for certain. Made worse by America's raised eyebrow and following statement. "Dude, I've told you before. I'm not a special cook or anything. We just have better taste buds than you." Arthur made a noise in the back of his throat as a response, trying to push away the _I've-done-this-before_ feeling as he put another forkful of eggs in his mouth. "Seriously, dude, why is it such a mystery why nobody likes your food?"

"Because it's not that bad!" England glared as he talked and poked his fork in the air. "My people love it, why can't the rest of the world?"

"Because your people are stupid."

Even if he had been expecting that response, it still stung worse than it should have and he jumped to his feet, slamming his hands on the table as he rushed to the defense of his people. "They are not! I can't believe you would insult them – or me – like that!"

"Dude, chill, it was just a joke," America said, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

_He's right. Calm down. It wasn't meant to be so serious. Still..._

He crossed his arms and turned his gaze away. "Well, it's an old joke and, frankly, I'm quite sick of it," he said while plopping back down in his chair, keeping his eyes on the food as he focused on eating.

"Hey, Arthur, is something else going on here?"

He flinched at the worry in America's voice. _Great. Now you've got him worrying. He's got enough problems; he doesn't need to worry over your sorry self._

"What? No, why would you think that?" He responded tactfully, spooning more food into his mouth.

"Because you seem a little more on edge than usual," Alfred said, placing his elbow on the table and resting his chin in his hand, eyes big and clouded with that _worry_. "I'm always poking fun at you so why is it bothering you now?"

_Just tell him. It'll make things easier. Obviously he doesn't pay attention to the News. Or maybe his reporters are dumb and refusing to talk about the sad state of the rest of the world._

He swallowed his food. Started tapping the edge of his fork against the plate. Then he took a breath and let it out. "Sorry. It's just...My economy isn't so good and after what happened with Greece, I've been a little anxious."

_Oh, wait, does he even know what Greece did? Does he realize how crazy things are over there? Does he know that Greece tried to commit suicide because the stress is finally-_

His thoughts were interrupted by America's arms wrapping around him, pulling him into a hug. "It's all right. You don't need to worry. I'm here for you, no matter what."

_Strangely comforting but..._

"Bugger you don't need to do that. From how I hear it, you're starting to fall into the same economic hell as the rest of us." He may have said not to help, but he didn't fight the comforting gesture. And, if he was being honest, the hug felt nice.

America sighed. "Yeah, but I've had worse!" And then he smiled. "Besides, I'm getting a new boss soon, and this time he's _sure_ to get us out!"

England couldn't help but smile at Alfred's enthusiastic optimism. "Heh. Let's hope so. The whole world is watching you now, you know, waiting to see who you'll get."

At this comment, America dropped the hug and started waving his hands around, getting excited at the new subject line. "Yeah! This time we won't pick someone who has no idea what they're doing!" And then Alfred paused, and blinked a few times. "Those people have been kinda popular lately, haven't they?" He pouted and glanced away. "That's only cause they never listened to me," he mumbled, and then grinned. "This new guy is sure to listen to me!"

Arthur could only sit and marvel at America's ability to have a conversation with himself. Talking back and forth as if someone were answering his questions and statements. He smiled at the youth's enthusiasm, though. "Yeah, he seems like a great guy." And then he frowned. "But do you think he would help out the rest of us? I like what he says about no war, but he does seem like an isolationist." With a sigh, he plopped his head down on the table edge, looking down at the floor. "Bollocks. I hate politics. Things used to be so simple."

There was a hand on his shoulder and then the abnormal sound of America being reassuring. "It will be all right. I still haven't completely abandoned you, you know."

He smiled and sat up, lifting his head. "Thanks, but what if-"

"But nothing! I'm the hero and my people are great! We'll figure this out no matter what happens _and_ we'll do it without starting another war!"

Arthur sighed. "Let's hope so. I am quite sick of wars." Then he narrowed his eyes. "_You_ keep starting those, you know."

America was quick to be on the defensive. "Not true! Those terrorists started it! And you know my logic: you kill us, we kill you right back!"

"Oh, I know that quite well," England muttered, lowering his gaze to the table again with a sigh.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He could feel his eyebrow twitch. How many times had it done that so far today? What was it about America that always made him so... With a sigh, he shook his head. "Don't worry about it. Not exactly happy memories."

There it was again. The blasted rain in his mind, in his memory. He had learned to despise the rain after that day, after those fights, which made living in London annoyingly difficult to say the least.

Thankfully, America had seemed to back off, muttering something unintelligible and leaving England to finish his breakfast. That was, until Alfred put his hands on either side of his face. "Hey, Arthur." He should have known something was coming the minute Al said his real name, not some silly childish nickname. He was turned to look at the American. "I love you." And then he was kissed, rather gently and innocently and...

...so unexpectedly he had no other reaction but to flail, break away, and fall backwards, tipping the chair over and groaning when his back and head hit the tile floor with a crash. "Ow," he muttered, glaring up at the surprised blue eyes behind those glasses. "Why do you have to be so forward?"

Before he could try to move, America stepped closer and leaned over, hovering, again. "Because I'm me, that's why," he said with a grin. "Sooooo..."

He was blushing, wasn't he? Bloody hell, this kid! "Soooo what?" He mimicked, wishing he could get out of this awkward position, not happy to be on the floor for the _second_ time in the past thirty minutes.

America's answer was a grin. A certain specific kind of grin that had not-so-innocent connotations behind it. And then he bent down to pick Arthur up bridal style, much to his chagrin. "So, are you going to say you love me too, or what?"

At first he was flustered. Then he was annoyed. And then he had to admit a little fun in the morning wouldn't be a bad thing. But straight up give in to America's demands?

That was something he was _not_ about to do. Not easily. So he shut his eyes and turned away, trying to hide his own grin. "Nope. You're going to have to do much more if you want something out of me."

He could hear America pouting. "Aw..." But then the voice changed to the commonly characteristic determined. "All right then. Challenge accepted."

Of course, Alfred didn't let him down. He started walking toward the room, getting to the stairs and taking it agonizingly slowly step-by-step, trying England's patience. "Bloody hell. Walk faster or put me down."

He should have known better than to voice his impatience when Alfred was in a gaming mood. "Well, since you asked..." The bloody man started moving _slower_ if that was even possible!

Arthur started grinding his teeth. "You're doing this on purpose."

"Doing what on purpose? I'm not doing anything..."

"Like hell..." For a moment more, England dealt with the slow pace. Just a moment. Then he started to struggle to get free, being annoyed at America's stupidly ungodly strength. "Okay. Let me down."

America giggled, like he was thoroughly enjoying himself or something. "I'll let you down when you say it," he said in a sing-song voice as he kicked the bedroom door open.

"Hmph. Just hurry up." No he was not going to give in. He was not going to play this game. He refused.

"That's not the words I'm looking for..."

Granted, he was getting rather impatient and rather horny despite himself. And this teasing refusal to go anywhere was starting to get on his every last nerve. But, no, he was _not_ going to give in this time!

"Stop kidding around, you twat!"

America chuckled. "Nope. Not those either."

Before England could respond with another insult, Alfred actually started to spin around, loosening his grip even. He was clinging to America before he even realized what was happening. And when he did realize it, he felt his face inflame and he scowled.

"Okay okay! Stop spinning!"

_Every...time..._

Thankfully, America did stop, though he was still being demanding. "Okay, then, say the magic words."

_Magic words? You..._

He wanted to shove at him and force himself free, but at the same time he knew the resistance was getting him no where. So, he kept his gaze to the side and tried to ignore the fact that his face had grown incredibly ridiculously hot. "I..." he felt his teeth grind for a moment before the resistance fled out of him and he let the moment create itself. "I love you, too." There. He said it. "Now put me down!"

"All right!" America exclaimed, sounding quite satisfied as he dropped England on the bed quite unceremoniously. "Now, where to start?"

The question caught him off guard, as did the predatory grin, so he just looked away and muttered, "Tch. You're the hero." As if that was some kind of legitimate answer.

"Okay then," America said before leaning forward, forcing their lips into a kiss.

Not that England was upset about it. Actually, he was quite satisfied to have things be intimate – finally. With hands on either side of his waist, he simply kissed back and waited for Alfred's move. He could feel America grin against his lips and then lick them as hands started to move up his shirt. A noise escaped his throat without permission as his hand moved up to America's shoulder, also quite without permission, and he shut his eyes, feeling the blush on his face.

"What's the matter?" He heard America question, breaking the kiss. "You embarrassed?"

Panting in heavy breathes, Arthur opened his eyes only to roll them in exasperation. "...Idiot."

"Hey now. That's not nice." He scoffed at Alfred's comment and then proceeded to roll his eyes again as he watched America fail at unbuttoning the shirt he had chosen to wear today.

"Tch," he scoffed again, reaching down to unbutton his own shirt. This happened every time. "You know, if you wore nicer clothes this part wouldn't take you so long..."

"If you didn't dress all fancy all the time, I wouldn't have this problem in the first place."

_Again_, he rolled his eyes at the retort. "A gentleman always wears ni-" And was successfully interrupted by another kiss.

A kiss with tongue involved, he should add. Smart kid, catching him in the middle of a sentence like that. Of course, America wasn't satisfied with just one surprise act. England felt hands on his hips, felt fingers touching up his sides in small gentle movements. It was almost ticklish and it did make him gasp, allowing America free reign in his open mouth. He felt a noise escape his throat and then Alfred pulled back.

"I love you, Arthur," America panted before leaning forward again.

However, this time he didn't aim for England's lips, instead snatching a little chunk of skin at the base of Arthur's neck, sucking and nibbling and breathing and...

_oh..._

"D-don't leave a mark now," he managed to say, trying to keep the panting out of his own voice.

To his relief, America did pull back. "Why not? I want everyone to know you're taken."

"B-But I don't want..."

"But what, Iggy?"

Immediately, the mood dropped. "Don't call me that!" Except he was shifting underneath America, groaning because he really was turned on and as much as he pushed against Alfred's shoulders, he wasn't _really_ trying to get free.

Apparently, America understood on some level, too, simply grinning and leaning forward again to attack his neck in little nips. At least he wasn't only teasing, though, working at getting England's shirt open. Granted, this could have been easily solved if he just backed away and let Arthur undress himself. But no, America had to do things himself and as soon as the shirt was unbuttoned completely, he moved his attack from England's neck to his collarbone to his chest, making Arthur squirm and pant and all those embarrassing little noises that made him look like putty in the younger nation's hands.

"Bloody tease," he muttered, gripping onto America's clothed shoulder as the man moved his hands to slip under pants and rub at hips in slow circles, which was making England push up and silently beg for more contact – _could we please just get on with it!_

He managed to pull Alfred down for a kiss before America pulled back, pulled away all together, sitting back and crossing his legs and getting a look on his face that looked positively _evil_. "I wonder what you want. And how badly you want it."

Narrowing his own eyes, England sat up on his elbows and glared over at the pompous little - "You bloody git, you know exactly what I want."

"Do I?" America queried, pretending to not know. "I don't really recall you asking for anything."

Feeling his eyebrows twitching in frustration, Arthur leaned forward and grabbed a fistful of America's shirt collar. "You know bloody hell what."

He started to pull up for another kiss but Alfred covered put a hand over his own mouth and grinned. _Positively evil._ "But what if I don't. I think you should tell me."

He groaned. "You are impossible."

America shrugged. "If by impossible you mean impossibly in love, then yes. Now, what do you want, exactly?"

_So. Very. Evil. _

England groaned again, setting his head down against America's chest, hands moving down to grip at the sleeves of Alfred's shirt, staring down at the area between them, noting the fact that they still have clothes on, and this absurd teasing has been going on for way too long. "This is not fair."

"Sure it is. You just need to tell me what you want." He wanted to punch the bloody oaf in the face but there was a hand rubbing against his back and it felt too good to ignore.

_He is such a jerk._

"I – I want you to -" Biting his lip, he cut off, feeling his face heat up. There was _no_ _way_ he would say it out loud. _No. Way._

Thankfully, America seemed satisfied. "I know. I know."

And then he was kissed. Rather roughly. Rather intimately. Rather...he moaned as hands went somewhere else...finally...

~!~

Later, much later he had to admit, England lay in bed facing away from America, letting his thoughts come back to the real world as he debated on whether or not to get out of the covers. He had allowed himself to be distracted. Whether he enjoyed it or not was not the point.

"Weren't you going to check up on your brother this morning?"

Arms were around him. America was breathing on the back of his neck. And he seemed upset about something, though he didn't seem to want to voice whatever was bothering him. "I don't know. I've been thinking about what you said, that you might be right."

_Well, that's a first._

"Of course I'm right, you git," he huffed.

"Then again, it might be a good idea to check on him. Make sure he hasn't lost his virginity yet."

Arthur rolled his eyes. How many times was he going to be forced to stand up for the annoying albino? "Prussia wouldn't do that. Not once you made it known that Canada is a virgin. Trust me. He likes drunken one night stands, but he knows when to respect the innocent."

"How can you be so sure, though? He's never been anything but an ass."

"Mmm...I wouldn't say that..." Arthur allowed his thoughts to drift for a while, remembering an older time, a certain seven years.

A face nuzzling into the back of his neck brought him out of those memories. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were protecting him."

He tensed. He couldn't help it. "No...well...uh...I..."

"Hm? What?"

_Bollocks. Now he's suspicious. Great job, Arthur. Think of some reason to -_

"Considering how everyone treated him after the war...It is a bit unfair of us, don't you think?"

_Idiot._

"Since when did you care about being fair to other countries?"

_See? He's not buying it._

"Uh...well...Just take my word for it. I know him. He is an egotistical ass, but – he's uh – I don't know. Not that bad?"

_Oh this is not going to end well._

"Iggy, are you hiding something from me?"

_Why is he always smart when you don't want him to be?_

"N-No. Why would you think that?"

"What? Is it Prussia? Did he -" _Oh god. Here it comes. _"Oh my god! Did he rape you?"

_Uh, what?_

"No, you bloody fool!" He turned around, sitting up as he did so just to knock America on the head, wishing he could literally knock some sense into the idiot. "Where did you get rape out of that? After I just told you Prussia isn't one to do that kind of thing."

"Well, obviously he did something!" England stared as America's eyes widened. "Oh my god! Mattie!"

And then Alfred started reaching for the phone, which made Arthur try to grab the phone away to keep a panicked America from starting a fire when there was no reason. "It's not like that!"

Of course, America got to the phone before he could stop it and of course he managed to call Canada. "Dude! Mattie! Are you all ri-" He paused, eyes blinking before screaming into the phone line. "What do you mean you didn't make it to the phone?" He growled and tossed the phone on the bed, which caused it to bounce against the covers. "Crap! He did something to my brother! Mattie _always_ answers when I call him!"

England could only sigh. "Oh calm down. I'm sure he's quite all right." He reached out to grab Alfred's wrists, trying to keep him still and calm. "Gil wouldn't -"

"Wha-what did you call him?" America interrupted, eyes wide and frozen.

"Gil – it's a..." He started to chew on his lip the instant he realized what mistake he had made. Calling Prussia by a nickname in front of Alfred was probably not the best idea right now. "Oh bollocks," he sighed. "It's a long story."

"Iggy? What's a long story?"

He didn't answer. Not like he should have. He blushed and turned away, trying to keep his head down. Even so, he mumbled something about Prussia and seven years and a war and an alliance and... well...maybe he did start rambling a bit too much.

"Iggy? What...happened?"

Of course, his stuttering and mumbling was not helping. He sucked in a big breath of air, knowing he was going to need it, and then shut his eyes and spilled everything as fast as he could. "Weusedtobeacoupleofsorts and he was and I was and it was – war alliance – complicated." He was panting, and getting frustrated because he had been so worried about spilling such information. "What the hell did you think?" He snapped, crossing his arms. "Anyway, that's why I keep saying trust me. I _know_ him."

To his surprise, America was actually quite upset. "Tch. Why would you try to hide that from me?" But not for the reason he _thought_ he would be upset.

"Because – ah -" he glanced away. "You were a kid then and I was always leaving you." He drifted off into more mumbling. "Not to mention, it's kind of embarrassing..."

_After all, to admit to being happy with that ruffian was – well – something he didn't particularly like to admit._

"But I'm not a kid anymore. And we moved past all that a long time ago." America sounded not just simply upset anymore, but sad. "At least, I thought we did."

England groaned. "So how am I supposed to say 'oh you can trust this egotistical bastard because I knew him intimately and we were both raising kids and I know his soft side'..." He paused, thinking to himself how he had just explained it all quite perfectly and how he could he not simply say that in the first place? With a sigh, he shook his head and continued. "Look, the important thing here is not to freak out about your brother. Everything else is just awkward conversation."

"But...maybe it's an awkward conversation we need to have. We can't keep avoiding it forever."

England could feel his face blanch white at the look of hurt on Alfred's face, at the water in those clear blue eyes. "What more do you want from me," he whispered.

"I don't know! I just...I want us to be able to move past everything we've been through. I don't like having it hover around us like this..."

He sighed and put a hand on Alfred's shoulder. _Great. Now you want to be a girl. _"That's a nice sentiment but you have to understand, Alfred, that I'm quite old and there are a lot of things in my past that could make for awkward conversation. There's too much to tell you all at once and some so bizarre I'd rather forget them myself."

_No, I will not think of Francis. No, I will not think of anyone else. Bizarre and in the past. If I were human, they would call it a crazy teenage phase. Sometimes, I do miss those days, though._

"But, I..." A hand took his own and pulled it to America's face, resting it against his cheek. "You left me no real choice."

He frowned. "Well what do you want me to say?" He glanced away and muttered, "You're usually so demanding about what I say, after all."

"What? No I don't."

Here he had to raise an eyebrow. _Are you just playing now? Or do you really not recall how you acted in the last couple of hours even?_

"I don't! Where did you get an idea like that? I never forced you to do anything!"

He rolled his eyes. "I didn't say anything about forcing. Just that you are demanding. And you _are_ very demanding. To everyone."

"How am I demanding? I'm just trying to help everyone! I mean, they obviously can't take care of themselves without having some type of hero to save them!"

Although he was successful in changing the subject of the conversation, England couldn't help but sigh and mutter, "Why do I always gravitate to the egotistical ones?"

And, _of course_, America had to hear him. "What's that supposed to mean? I'm not egotistical!" Which earned the younger nation a raised eyebrow. "_What_?" Before England could give him an answer, Alfred pouted, frowned, and then blinked a few times before the sound of a stomach growl broke the silence. "I'm hungry. Can we go get some McDonald's?"

Arthur sighed, partially from relief to have America back to normal. "You and your stomach." He gave a light smile and started to climb out of bed. "All right. I suppose I'll get dressed – again."

Before he could successfully get out of bed, Alfred wrapped arms around him and pecked him on the lips. "I love you, Iggy!"

"Hey let me get dressed!" He snapped, feeling that damnable blush on his face again. "Don't you have a brother to check up on?"

To which America immediately dropped his arms and grabbed the phone. "That's right!" He exclaimed as he dialed the number and waited for it to pick up on the other end.

_At least now he won't be obsessively worried. I hope so, anyway. I tried to get my point through to him. We'll see if it works. This over-protective brother side is probably going to annoy Matthew after a while, and I'm sure Gilbert hates it. Heck, even I'm starting to get irritated by it – and it hardly has anything to do with me._

_I hope this won't last all month._

~!~

_A/N: Ah hah. 6.5k words but it's all out there and the next chapter goes back to lovely PruCan. I'll be writing that up now, as a matter of fact. _

_Kairi: kesesesesesesesesesese. So many comments I made while reading this. '…' Can't remember a damned one. Ah well, UsUk everyone! _

_Reviewer Replies: (You like it if I reply this way, right? If you don't, just say so...)_

_yvonna: Thanks for the review :) I'm glad you enjoy it! And don't worry. We will get to show other sides of Canada. Eventually. Eh heh. _

_love1398: Yay! Glad you liked~_

_IAmACat: Yay, I'm glad you like the Canada/Italy similarities we pointed out. Apparently opposites do attract. Hah. Oh, Prussia's relationship with Hungary...That becomes an important plot point later on...if you stick with me that long, that is. And, yeah, USUK here, hopefully a little humorous, but I'm writing the next chapter up as fast as possible this time because I crave my PruCan and I love what comes next._

_Akiraification: Thank you! Means a lot!_

_XionAmmy: Thank you! And you made my sister happy :)_

_LilShortcakeNOM: Thank you for the review! Lol Kuma and Gilbird...they are funny... I'm so glad you're enjoying it._

_Sami199: Thank you :) You know, if you want to request something /that/ badly go ahead and PM me and I'll see what I can do._

_southparkyaoifan: hehe – you are the 50th reviewer, so you get a free one-shot of anything Hetalia related; thanks for the reviews; I hope you continue to enjoy! _

_BunnyKoi: Aw thank you. That means a lot. :)_

_~~as always, thanks for all alerts/favorites/reviews~~_

_~Reda_


	9. Chapter 9

**Author Notes****:**

-Prussia plays the flute. Yes, of course he plays the flute, dangit, one of the great Prussian Kings played the flute and it was Old Fritz! Yes, I believe Prussia would know how to play the flute if his favorite king composed for the instrument. The greatest moment of my Music History class was discovering that little jewel of information, let me tell you.

-Prussia is also angsty deep inside after losing his nation. I can't see how he would _not_ be. He is only the greatest character in existence because he has _perfect reason_ to be an emo character – and what does he do instead? He laughs and jokes and pokes fun at his brother and is an all around annoyance but always grinning about something, no? I think characters have multiple layers – and Prussia has several that I absolutely adore exploring. And apparently he's been very good at pushing any "unawesome" feelings to the side for years.

**Warning****:**

-If I have not made it clear: there is angst. Prussia-angst to be precise. I am obsessed with it.

-Also, I think there's something messed up with phone calls and timing. Like, something doesn't line up just right to make sense with time of day and whatnot from the past few chapters. Gave me a bit of a headache trying to think about it, and this is kind of what happens when I don't have a plan and everything is role-play-erific.

-One last thing: pseudo history; I'll explain what about in the A/N at the bottom of the chapter.

~!~

One Month

Chapter 9

~!~

The day was finally well underway by the time the pancake breakfast came to an end. Matthew knew he was enjoying himself far too much for such a simple reason – and the little hangover feeling was starting to become more of a nuisance in the back of his head than any actual pain. He spent way too much time outside under the tree with Gilbert, enjoying the conversation or the man's presence or both.

He loved learning about the albino ex-nation, even if it involved sad stories of past loves. He was still so amazed that so much could happen to the man, and yet Prussia still ran around the world, using a country name that didn't exist anymore and showering everyone with enough crazy optimism to make it seem so unreal. Perhaps he was in denial. How else could Gilbert still claim to be so awesome, if there was simply no such thing as a Prussian anymore?

All in all, it was curious, and of course that was the only reason Matthew even bothered to keep asking questions about the Prussian. It wasn't like he wanted to learn more about _Gilbert_. Except, well, he did. He desperately wanted to know everything about this strange albino. Maybe he wanted to understand why the ex-nation had decided to stay, why he had worked so hard to comfort Matthew, or why he had kissed back after that little bout of assertiveness from Canada that he had been sure was a fiasco.

Did it even matter _why_ he wanted to know more?

Whatever the reason, Canada was learning more and more about Gilbert the longer they sat together under the tree, because "the awesome Prussia" certainly had no problem talking about himself. He reminded Matthew of his brother in that respect at least.

Eventually, they managed to stand up and make their way back into the house. Some small comment about needing to clean the plates. And a huff from Kumajiro as the bear climbed down from the tree and meandered into the house himself.

When they walked back into the house, Canada groaned, immediately hearing the sound of his brother's national anthem and knowing his phone was going off _again_. "I don't want to answer that," he said with a huff, crossing through the living room to set the plates in the sink. "I'm tired of everyone assuming we did something we didn't."

He didn't have to look to know Prussia had followed him into the kitchen, hanging in the doorway. "I could answer it," the albino offered. Canada blinked and glanced away from his current task in order to send his curious, raised-eyebrow look to the Prussian. He got a shrug in response. "You know he's going to keep calling like an over protective older brother."

For a moment, Matthew stared, and then he realized that Prussia probably knew what he was talking about when it came to older brother mentalities. Even if sometimes the rest of the world swore that Gilbert acted more like the younger brother between the two Germans. When the familiar American ringtone went off yet again, Matthew sighed, and Prussia turned around to make his way back to the living room where the phone was located.

"All right," Canada said, even if Gilbert was already on his way to answering the call. "But don't let him get the wrong idea," he muttered as he set the dishes in the dishwasher and then followed Prussia into the living room, plopping down on the couch and rubbing his head as if in anticipation of the incoming headache.

Prussia picked the phone up and grinned as he answered. "Awesome Me speaking. Canada is currently not-"

The voice that interrupted was so loud, Matthew could hear it from where he was sitting. "Where's my brother? Why didn't he answer? What did you do to him?"

Prussia's chuckle and completely calm demeanor was not something he had been expecting. "Nothing, nothing," the albino said with a roll of his eyes, walking over to the armchair beside the couch and sitting down, crossing his legs and leaning back as if this was the most natural phone conversation in the world. "Your brother really doesn't want to talk to you if you're going to assume things, you know."

"I'm not assuming anything! I'm just worried about my brother!" Seriously, it was almost as if the phone was set to speakerphone setting. "I can't believe you just expect me to take your word for it."

For some reason, this had Prussia looking quite confused. "Why wouldn't you? It's not like I'm a liar."

"Well, how would I know that? For all I know you _are_ a liar!" Oh, now Canada really felt like snapping at America. "Now let me talk to my brother!" This overprotective attitude was getting out of hand.

Prussia growled into the phone, apparently not liking the insult of being called a liar, either. "I already told you. He doesn't want to talk." Red eyes glanced over to him. "Right?"

Realizing that this wasn't going to solve anything, Canada rolled his eyes and sat up. "You know what? I don't care anymore." He reached out across the distance between him and Prussia and snatched the cell phone away. "Alfred, if you don't shut up and leave me be-"

"Oh thank god! Are you okay? What's he done to you? Why does he keep answering the phone for you? I swear I will-"

"Al! Just shut up!" Really, he was annoyed. He was _very_ annoyed. Quite pissed off, to tell the truth. "Dieu, you set this whole thing up and right when things start getting good for us, you have to try to ruin it! I have the biggest headache in the world and you constantly calling is not helping at all!"

Without even waiting for a reply, he hung the phone up and tossed it to the coffee table in front of him. With a huff, he collapsed back on the couch, rubbing at his head with one hand. To his surprise, Prussia got up out of his chair and came to sit on the couch next to him, an arm sitting on the back of the couch behind him.

And he was laughing. "Kesese ~ That was awesome. I didn't think you had a temper!"

What was so great about a temper?

Normally, he would have felt bad about yelling at Al. After all, America was just worried – overprotective but meaning well. Then again, it _was_ getting annoying. They were twins, and America just liked to _claim_ that he was older; neither of them really knew which one was the eldest. So this older brother protective air pissed him off because America was more a kid than he was, damn it all.

Still, being called awesome was enough to make him blush, and he found himself leaning into Gilbert. "Yeah, well, America just needs to grow up."

"That is true, though he does remind me of a younger me." This caused another burst of laughter from the albino.

Feeling playful, Canada let his eyes widen as he looked up at the ex-nation. "You mean he's never going to grow up?"

Apparently, Prussia caught on – though he blinked in confusion for half a second – and played back, putting a hand up to his heart. "Oh, you wound me."

Canada shrugged. "Ce la vie." He blushed and glanced away as a thought occurred to him and he offered up the new revelation. "But, you know, I kind of like how childish you can be."

This earned him another laugh through that wide grin. "Kesese, that is because I am awesome."

He rolled his eyes because that answer made no sense, and yet it seemed like an entirely appropriate answer for Prussia. "Yeah, sure it is." He yelped, then, because the funny little yellow chick had decided to land in his hair and shortly after that the red-eyed silver-haired ex-nation had decided to wrap his arms around him and nuzzle against his hair, as if he were copying his bird. "I...uhm..." The contact was unexpected and it was leaving him blushing, happy and confused.

The bird flitted down to his lap, ruffling feathers and peeping up at him once before fluffing up and seemingly focusing attention to his feathers. Canada smiled, expecting the albino to let go now. Of course, Prussia didn't move. If anything, Gilbert seemed to cuddle closer. And then he started humming. A strange tune, something that didn't sound like anything from today's music, and yet there was still something incredibly...beautiful about it.

Feeling his face heat because of Gilbert's close proximity, he closed his eyes and focused only on the humming, relaxing the more he listened. "That sounds pretty."

Prussia stopped the tune to chuckle lightly. "Of course it does; it's Prussian." He paused and then muttered, "Kind of meant for the flute, though."

He blinked. That caught him off guard. Why would Prussia have anything to do with the flute? It seemed so far beyond what someone with his attitude would be into...unless...

"Can..." _Well, you won't know if you don't ask._ "Can you play the flute?"

He was expecting a laugh and a resounding 'no,' but he was surprised when the albino sat back, pulling away. He was even more surprised when Prussia stared down at his lap and smiled, scratching at his cheek as if embarrassed. "Yeah. I can play."

"Really? That's amazing!" Canada felt his smile break across his entire face, unable to hold back the excitement. He didn't know there were other musicians among the nations besides Austria. He certainly would have never guessed that the loud mouthed _Prussian_ would be one. "I love classical music! It's so peaceful and beautiful and..."

He started to ramble and found himself staring into a pair of smiling, warm red eyes, as if Canada's reaction had been just as unexpected and yet just as pleasing. There was laughter in those eyes, too, as Canada started to ramble on and on about his favorite composers, listing several popular German ones without even realizing it.

And then Prussia did laugh lightly, hands in his lap. "Wow. I thought everyone thought it was old fashioned."

He blinked. "Old fashioned?" Then he sighed and looked down, losing his excitement at such a simple statement. "Well, most people probably do, but I...I like it." He blushed and shook his head to try to clear it. "I guess it's because growing up with France, there was always beautiful art and music and -"

"Tch. France has nothing on me," Prussia scoffed, putting his hands on his knees and leaning back, head held high. "Old Fritz not only played but composed music; that's something none of the others can boast about their bosses."

Canada stared at him. That statement... It was... Definitely not accurate. France, Italy, maybe even England...didn't they all have bosses at one point or another that composed? He was pretty sure... But before he could correct Prussia's boast, he noticed a certain prideful beam in those red eyes and shut his mouth the moment he recognized it. If Prussia wanted to cling to something from his older days, something dealing with a monarch he obviously still thought highly of, it wasn't Matthew's place to destroy it. Fine then, he would let that boast go.

He smiled. "Really? Is that who you learned from?"

"Yeah," Prussia breathed, his eyes shifting to a distant look. "He taught me a lot. Best boss ever."

Trying to bring Prussia back to the here-and-now instead of the past memories, Canada put a hand on one of Gilbert's and looked up at him, blushing a bit. "Do you – do you think you could play something for me?"

"Huh?" The albino blinked back at him, and Canada pulled his hand away and started to wish he hadn't been so bold, but then the question seemed to root into Prussia's brain and there was a new dancing gleam in those red eyes that he swore he hadn't seen a moment ago. "Yeah! Yeah, sure!"

Before he could comment more, the Prussian clambered off the couch and started racing back to the bedroom where they had moved his bags. Canada stared after him for a bit, and then smiled, looking down at the yellow chick still sitting in his own lap. "He's like a child getting asked to show off a special talent, isn't he?"

The bird gave a simple peep and tilted its head as if that were enough of an answer.

~!~

_I can't believe it. He asked me to play for him. He found out and then asked me to -_

_Well don't get all flustered now. Show him what you've got!_

_I haven't played in years, not for someone else at least. It's been forever since -_

He found himself strangely battling a bout of performance anxiety as he raced back to the bedroom. Searching through his bags, he had to fight back the thoughts about how long it had been since he'd last played for someone else. Hell, he usually wasn't one to jump at the chance to play, having kept it as a personal secret and a personal thing, but he wanted to show this to Canada. For some reason, he _really_ wanted to share this with the Canadian.

He wanted to share stories about Fritz, and he wanted to bring some of Fritz's compositions back to life. He wanted Canada to know how much the flute meant to him, because he had managed to hang on to Old Fritz's own flute even after all these years; even through some miracle he'd been able to keep it in good shape. He knew the perfect song to play, too.

Now, if only he could find the case -

"Need any help looking for it?"

At the voice behind him, he felt his heart start racing, feeling the nerves coming back. Which was strange. When was he ever nervous about something? Clearing his throat, he turned his head toward Canada and smiled. "Ah, well, it's in one of these bags," he said, gesturing at the duffel bags he had used to carry the majority of his things. He shrugged and scratched his cheek. "I forgot which one I put it in. I don't pull it out all that often nowadays."

"That's a shame," Canada murmured before heading into the room to squat down beside Prussia and open a bag.

Turning back to what he was doing, Gilbert started talking as he opened a second bag. "I haven't played since -" he stopped, having found the flute case, smiling wide as soon as his hands brushed the old familiar item. "Found it!"

He pulled it out almost reverently, clicking the case open and gazing down at the silver flute – still nice and polished because of Prussia's stubborn upkeep after all these years. So many memories and longing emotions assaulted him every time he saw it; it was almost like he was looking back into the past; if he closed his eyes he could almost hear the notes from Fritz improvising special melodies meant only for him.

Canada's voice brought him back to the present in a heartbeat. "No one's ever played for me, so I guess that makes us even."

"Heh," Prussia smiled softly, taking the flute out and setting the pieces together. "I am kind out of practice, and as awesome as I am, Fritz was a master."

_I mean that. Gott, I miss it now. I made fun of him back then and fought it when he taught me, but now..._

Well, now it was his turn to improvise a melody for someone. He would go off of the tune he'd been humming earlier and he was sure it wouldn't be near as good as what Fritz could have done. But, well, anyone who ever listened to him said he was great. Even that prim and proper stuck-up Austria.

So, hopefully this wouldn't be the train wreck he was worried about it becoming. He moved over to the bed and sat down next to Canada, bringing the flute to his lips and letting his eyes close as he breathed into the instrument. Or across it. Or whatever. Music always had a way of pulling him back to the past, especially "classical" music as it was called now, especially flute music.

He allowed his thoughts to drift as his fingers started with simple note changes, easing his way into a simple melody. It was always best to let his thoughts control the music; it added a depth to the music that was unexplainable with words but easily felt – even amateurs knew the difference. To be honest, he was hardly hearing the music he was making. If he could take time to listen to himself he would lose the connection, so he did what he did with most everything else – he let his instincts guide him.

And he remembered.

He thought of the days when his nation had been great. When he'd been more than awesome. When he'd been surrounded by powerful nations on all sides and still managed to win battles and wars and hold his ground...and grow. He knew things could never go back to those glory days, but he could wish and he would always miss it.

He felt a pang in his heart and he opened his eyes to see Canada smiling, his eyes closed, apparently listening intently to the music swarming through the room. Yeah, things were different now anyway. Even if he was still a nation, it wouldn't be the same. To be truthful, things hadn't been the same since Fritz died. They never would be.

_Gott, I really need to move on._

Letting the melody circle into an ending, holding out one note and allowing it to fade into silence, Prussia pulled the flute from his lips and sighed. He set the instrument in his lap and stared at the floor. "I wish I could have done him justice. Instead I get the whole nation dissolved and no one remembers him – or _cares_ to remember him at all."

The hand on top of his was a surprise. "I remember." As were the words.

He responded by raising an eyebrow at Canada. "Keh. How could you remember? You were like – this big!" He leaned over and put a hand in the air to demonstrate a child's height.

"Yeah, but I've been researching, remember? I know more than what you take me for."

He scoffed and stared at him with a critical eye. "You researched?"

Canada seemed a little taken-aback. "Wha-what? Is that weird? Is there something wrong with that?"

Realizing he had upset the Canadian by his reaction, Prussia set the flute behind him and grabbed his hand. "No, it's just -" He blinked when he discovered that he didn't really have a good response or a good way to explain his own disbelief. Honestly, who researched things nowadays? "Actually, it is strange but not wrong. I don't know anyone that likes to research." He paused, swallowing a lump in his throat. "...especially about me."

A blush appeared on Canada's face. "I just..." And then he turned his head and mumbled something under his breath.

Prussia sighed and decided not to get mad at the soft-spoken I-can't-hear-you-when-you-do-that voice. Instead, he tilted his head and queried. "What was that?"

Still looking away, Canada responded. "I...I research and study nations that have fallen so that it won't happen to me...I'm sorry..."

He felt his body tense. _Nations that have fallen..._ Dropping his touch on Canada's hand, he placed his grip around the silver flute, stroking the keys even as his eyes swam into the distant past. _Not a nation anymore. Not worth anything. _It shouldn't bother him this much. He should be over it. He should be stronger than this and learn to put it all behind him. He was alive, wasn't he? Even if he was no longer a nation, even if friends had betrayed him, even if...

As he ran his fingers over the flute keys, he slowly brought himself back to the here-and-now. With a cough to clear his throat, he whispered a response, ignoring the fact that his vision was blurry. "That's smart. Learn from history."

"I-I'm sorry." He could hear the catch in Canada's breath. "I'm so sorry..."

He winced. _Gott _but he hated pity. "Don't be sorry. You weren't involved in that whole decision, were you?"

It was meant to be a rhetorical question. _Of course_ Canada hadn't been involved. As far as he could remember, it had only been England, America, and Russia...and France had stood off to the side as if his input had barely been considered...and West had looked downcast, depressed from the war crimes that should have fallen on his boss, that had torn Germany apart even if it had been all in the name of some sick effort to make Germany greater. And he had been there, held down and forced to hear everything as they abolished and dissolved him, forced to lean back on Russia who had taken him in against his will. Because, _Gott_, that pain had been...

He growled and shook his head. _No, in the past. Keep it in the past._

And then he heard a hiccup and a small voice speaking as if from the edges of his hearing range. "I – well, I had never met you or Germany in person -" He blinked at the words, feeling his mouth fall open, knowing that his face was trying to get whiter than its normal pale. "And – I was blinded by America's stories -" Every word, every admission, every excuse felt like a slap to the face. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

_I had no idea..._

"Y-you..." Prussia knew there was water in his eyes and he moved his hand to cover his face to hide them by habit. "I can't believe that you would..."

Anger flooded him for a moment. He clenched his other hand, pulling it away from the flute, forgetting all about the instrument as he sprang to his feet. He wanted to shout. He wanted more than anything to shout at him right now. But he couldn't. He just couldn't do it. When he saw the regret that was _so_ apparent on Canada's face the most Gilbert could manage to do was turn around and walk over to the window, looking outside at the bright and sunny, clear and happy day – the direct contrast to his own feelings.

He took a breath and leaned against the window, closing his eyes as his forehead pressed into the glass, meeting the memories, hating them, hating himself for still seeing them so clearly. "Do you have any idea what I went through...?"

"I-I'm so sorry!"

_Stop it with the fucking pity. _

"I never expected Russia to do those things!"

_What do you even know? _

"None of us did!"

_Oh sure, that's what they all say. _

"We never meant to cause you so much pain!"

Clenching his hands around the window sill, he opened his eyes and glared into the window pane, gritting his teeth, fighting the memories. "I'm sure you didn't. That's why you helped dissolve my nation status and then handed me over to that psychopath." He couldn't even see Canada in his memories. He wasn't really yelling at him now, either; he was lashing out in sarcastic words at the 'friends' that weren't here.

"I'm so sorry!"

_Gott, not again. Stop saying that!_

"I swear, the moment I heard about what he was doing I tried to get you out! I really did! I never wanted that to happen to anybody!"

As his brain yet again asked what could Canada possibly know about his time with Russia, his ears caught the exact words and waited for his mind to catch up. He blinked when it clicked. "You tried to get me out?"

_How? What? When? Huh?_

"Oui! Oui!" He grimaced as Canada started spouting things out in French.

Prussia hated French, especially when they were talking about his nation status, especially when all he could see in his mind's-eye was Francis just sitting back and looking glum as they metaphorically tore him apart. "Don't talk to me in French, _verdamt_!" His fist reacted, slamming against the window. Shortly thereafter, he took a breath and forced himself to relax, opening the fist to a palm and feeling the chill from the outside as his hand pressed against the window pane. To himself, he mumbled, "I hate the cold..."

French continued to spread through the room, caused by Canada still mumbling and rambling and trying to explain. Prussia did his best to ignore it just as he did his best to ignore the heartache, the reminder of betrayal. Hanging his head, he stared at the floor, annoyed at himself for reacting so badly but unable to relax like he wanted. "Why does everyone betray me?"

He could pick up the sobbing among the French words but his back stayed to Canada, his eyes stayed on the floor. He was really starting to hate hearing that obnoxious language, that reminder of a friend betraying him. But he started focusing on something else, started working his own personal therapy to push all feelings to the side. Push all memories away.

Except he wanted to know...

"Can you at least tell me..._why_ everyone thought it was the right thing to do? What was the purpose?" No, he was not going to cry. He was in control. He was perfectly fine. No, he was _not_ falling to his knees, not letting his hands fall limply to his lap, not letting the bad memories destroy his perfect facade. "Why?" And his voice most certainly did _not_ just crack with emotion.

He heard the answer as if from a distance. "I-I-I-I'm sorry. I'm _so_ sorry! I would take it back if I could! I never meant that for you!"

_Gott_ but he was getting tired of hearing the pity and the apologies. Through clenched teeth, he growled, "I just want to know _why_. What gave such 'great and fair' nations the justification to do something so-"

"It was Germany!"

_What? No, not a good answer. _

"Everything he did had us all scared and confused! We didn't know what to do...We weren't expecting anything like what he was doing!"

_Don't you fucking dare..._

"Tch. So now it's West's fault?"

"N-Not really just..." He heard a choked sob, but he didn't care. "Even you have to admit he was a monster then!"

"He was not!" He snapped. He was tired of hearing that excuse. His baby brother was _fucking perfect_. Couldn't they just understand? "His boss was insane! That's all!" Did they not understand the situation? Did they not believe?

There was the sound of a whimper. "I-I'm sorry..."

He sighed. "Right. It's all a terrible _misunderstanding_," he said mockingly.

Before he could go on, before he could continue to defend his little brother – because fuck it all to hell if he would let _anyone_ hate on his little brother. It's what he was good at, after all. Sticking up and defending West. Taking the blame for him. It's what he did! He wouldn't let _anyone_ take that away; what was the sacrifice for if not to protect West? What was it for if everyone still blamed Germany?

_Like hell..._

The phone rang. His phone. With a very familiar, very German-sounding brotherly ring tone. He actually winced when he reached into his pocket and flipped the phone open to answer the call. "Nice timing, West."

~!~

_A/N: Ahhh, what? Is that a cliffhanger? Am I ending it there? Yes, yes I am. Because this scene goes on FOREVER. Don't worry. We'll pick it up in the next chapter. More angst. Ah~_

_OH! From everything I read, the Allied Control Council – which was responsible for the official dissolution of Prussia – only consisted of the United Kingdom, United States, and the Soviet Union, with France kinda sorta being a part of it later for a vote. We've decided for dramatic reasons to make Canada not officially part of this but to have signed certain agreements because America convinced him to, because Canada totally always just goes with whatever America does (*shifty eyes*). Or at the very least, Canada gives himself a part of the blame even if he had such a small part in the vote. _

_Einsamkeit makes good Prussia or Germany angst music, by the way. o.o_

_Reviewer Replies:_

_black snow rose: Space camp? That sounds awesome! Aw man, I'm jealous! Glad you liked the chapters and yeah it was really awkward/cutesy USUK lol ~ And yay we're back to PruCan now just in time for angst...more fluff is incoming though once this scene is worked through._

_brattyteenagewerewolf: Prussia and England one shot, you say? Hmm... I wonder... I just might... Glad to have you back! Hope everything's going well...-update update update- oh wait, did I say that? _

_BunnyKoi: I do believe the Seven Years War could make an interesting fic collection for different pairings and such. I mean, the Bad Touch Trio is split up and fighting each other. And PrUK totally happened because it was them against the world! ~ Hehe, thanks for the review._

_Sami199: Yay! USUK and PruCan are my two favorite pairings, both fighting for the OTP spot. Thanks for the review! _

_IAmACat: I'm glad the USUK was bearable and it's good to hear that they were at least in character. (Yes!) Hehe, Spamano, we'll get there! I love their dynamic in this story and I can't wait but if I'm being honest, it'll be a while before they get on screen. _

_~~As always, thank you for all favorites/alerts/reviews; I appreciate them all~~_

_~Reda_


	10. Chapter 10

**Author Notes****:**

-Onward! Hey~ We're getting close to actually bringing in plot beyond the romance stuff~ By that I mean the outside world starts to have shit happen. ;o

-Dude, there was like this huge thunderstorm going on while writing this. The whole time I keep thinking "please don't let the power go out; please don't let the power go out." Thankfully, I'm on a laptop so it wouldn't crash my computer, but I was still saving every few lines.

-There's a Star Wars reference here. If you pick it up, you are amazing. It's early on and nothing more than a line, but, seriously, if you get it, I'll give you an...internet cookie or something...

-I do love sneaking in subtle movie/book/anime/etc references so, don't be surprised when they pop up.

**Warning****:**

-More slight pseudo-history. More angst.

~!~

One Month

Chapter 10

~!~

Prussia growled into the phone, staring at the wall in front of him but not really looking at it. "Nice timing, West."

He could hear the surprise in his brother's voice. "_Bruder_, I'm just calling to check on you."

He growled again. Everyone had to keep checking in on things. First there was Canada's brother, then Francis, then there was Italy, then America again, and now even West? He was definitely _not_ in the mood.

"Oh I'm fine. Everything's fine here. Just talking about my ex-nation status and all, but, no, it's all fine. How are you?"

There was a pause. A sigh. "_Bruder_, what happened? Where's America's brother?"

"Keh." _Like I care right now. _"He's on the bed crying, apologizing for everything they did." He clenched his teeth. "I'm just not in the mood right now."

There was another pause. He started to hope he wasn't about to get a lecture from his brother. That was the _last_ thing he wanted to hear. "Listen to me." _I'm listening. _"When they did what they did, it was an attack on me. He did not have anything against you."

_Oh, bullshit. My own friend sat by and allowed it to happen. Nothing against me? Francis wouldn't talk to me for years even after I came back. I can't even remember the regret in England's eyes anymore, if it was ever there. No way in hell it was all because of you, bruder._

He decided to voice this. "Oh no, you are not taking the blame for everything. I won't let you!"

"Prussia, listen to me!"

His eyes widened. Did West just call him by his nation name? He never did that...not anymore...Why?

Before he could question it, Germany continued. "Regardless of your misguided ideas, I was to blame for it all."

_I am not hearing this. I won't allow it! _"You – but I – you -" he scowled around the words when he couldn't manage to form a coherent statement, feeling his ire rise. "Argh! I will _not_ blame you for what _they_ did!" He sucked in a breath. "Don't get me wrong. I'm happy to be the one to suffer instead of you, but still -"

"But if it wasn't for how I was at the time, they never would have even considered it! Open your eyes for once!"

"Open my eyes?" He spat. "What the hell does that mean? My eyes are always open. I'm fucking Prussia! I see everything!"

_You're not making sense._

_Shut up._

"Look at America's brother." When West dragged Canada into the conversation, Prussia tensed. "You said he was crying." He could hear the blood rushing in his ears now. Was he that upset? Really? "Do you want him to stay that way? Did you even consider his feelings in all this? He's probably putting all the blame on himself now!"

With his teeth grinding against each other, the words began to pop out on their own. He was finding it harder and harder to control the emotions he had kept pent up for years. "I really don't care right now. I'm frustrated and hurt and all you're doing is yelling at me like I'm some kind of insensitive ass." He took a breath. No, he was _not fucking tearing up._ He was _not_ about to cry! "...when really, I'm the one somehow alive after losing my rights as a nation and living under Russia's fucked up Soviet rule. I'm the one whose friends have all changed and now avoid him. I'm the one who has to find someone to mooch off of to survive and yet everyone kicks me out eventually or betrays me or I don't know...I don't know how much more of this I can take."

It really was frustrating. To have so much happen to him. To work so hard to put it behind him and forget it. To find stupid little things to occupy his time and entertain himself. And yet, still, everyone seemed to think of him as an annoying ass and nothing more. He was fucking sick of it.

"What do you people want from me?"

"_Bruder..._" He could almost hear the flinch in West's voice. "Relax. I should not have yelled at you. It's just...it _is_ my fault you went through all that, and the Germany back then was nothing more than a monster. You must face the truth and you must forgive."

"Face what truth?" He whispered. "Forgive what?" He gave a bark of a laugh and it sounded hysterical, even to him. "I raised you! How could you possibly turn into some crazy monster? No...no... Russia's the monster but he was on _their_ side, so they turned away."

"_Gottverdamt_!" That was new. West didn't like to curse. "Even Italy knew I was a monster! You are the only one who would not, and still won't accept this truth! _Gott_, if you would only swallow your pride!"

"I don't care what Italy thinks of you!" He shouted. "I know you weren't -" He cut himself off, letting those memories return.

Toward the end of the war things had started to get out of hand. Germany's boss was getting crazier and angrier and crueler and in turn West had been building a wall around his heart. Orders. It was all orders. Follow the rules. Follow the chain of command. Do as you're told.

_Crazy West..._

Prussia had gone east, leaving Germany alone with his boss and his allies, except Italy had dropped away from the alliance and Japan was busy fighting in the Pacific. And Prussia was in the East trying to hold back the Russians. Sometimes he felt like he'd always been trying to hold them back. He had fought hard and lost so much that by the end there was so little left of his old Prussian cities, so little left of the land that had once been so great.

And with the war lost, he'd been pulled back west to face judgment with his brother. He had expected to take the blame like he'd done in the Great War, the first World War. So, he had always expected their decision to involve some kind of punishment against him – and he _wanted_ to take the blame for his brother. What he hadn't been expecting was the tarnished name of Fritz and old Prussian ideals being responsible for Hitler's war crimes. They didn't understand _anything_! Just because Germany's crazy boss had used Fritz didn't mean...

But he accepted it and let them blame him, let them blame Prussia, vowed to avenge Fritz's name and honor somehow even as he let them place the blame on whomever they wanted. And then the real horror had been unleashed. The dissolution, the abolishment of his nation. An official statement, signing him away into non-existence, only to be picked up by Russia – the one he _hated_ above all else – and made into the Eastern Germany that he had represented during the war anyway.

And West had... West had...

...he'd refused to look at him. Beaten, broken, something inside of him having snapped because of all the horrible deeds he'd done in the name of his country... and he'd refused to even look at him...and they had both known whose fault it really was...even if Prussia had refused to accept it, even then. Because Germany _had_ changed during those last moments. No matter what Prussia wanted to believe, even he had memories. The disgust in his brother's eyes because _how the hell could a German nation representative be albino? Why aren't you like me? Why aren't you perfect? _

He hissed and pushed the thoughts away. It was the _past – _it needed to stay there. "But, if it's your fault, then why did I...?"

He heard a long, sad sigh. "Fate has a cruel way of working, _bruder_. And not a night goes by that I don't wonder if there was something I could do to stop it."

The implications in that statement. He thought back to that pivotal moment in his mind. England, France, America, Russia...and West in the shadows...facing away, looking as glum as Francis like he'd just done something he'd regret for the rest of his life...

"What are you saying?" Words caught in his throat as it became hard to breathe. "You – you didn't... Please say you didn't..."

"I'm sorry. I had no choice. They did not _give_ me a choice."

"Oh..._Gott_..." Even West...Even his own brother... He fought to take a gulp of air, like he'd just been punched in the gut and he couldn't breathe. Whether or not an actual vote had been cast, West was saying he had sided_ with_ them; he had done nothing to _fight_ the decision. Even his own _bruderlein_... "Even you..."

"_Bruder_, listen to me. I look back and I'm ashamed for not fighting for you, but even my own people were..."

"Yeah," Prussia whispered. "Yeah, I know." It had been a while – a _long_ while – since he'd been able to feel anything from a people, from a nation, but he understood the dynamic and how it worked, how it was overwhelming sometimes.

"_Bruder_, I will always be your _bruderlein_ and I will never leave you in that type of situation ever again."

It was reassuring to hear that. It really was. And he could believe it. Granted, it was a little pointless. You couldn't dissolve a nation twice, after all.

Still, he was beginning to relax, beginning to think again, remember where he was, what he was doing, who was with him. He stated to chew on his lip, recalling the Canadian who was probably curled up on the bed behind him. But there was still something bothering him, still something he had to clear up before he could let the matter rest.

"West...how do you tell if someone is lying?"

He heard a sigh from the other end of the phone, but it was a little relieved. Heh. West knew how to read his voice. "I just do, _bruder_. With certain people, you tell certain ways..."

"Okay then. So if I were to ask Canada if he really didn't know what he was doing..."

"If he were to act differently in any way, that could be a clue."

He sighed. "But I don't know how he normally acts. I mean, we've only been together for a day...if that..." As he spoke, he changed positions, turning around to put his back to the wall and as a result he could look across the room to the tear-faced Canadian staring straight at him from the bed.

"Well then I suggest trusting him," West said.

Before Prussia could say anything, Canada opened his mouth and met his eyes. "I swear I didn't mean to hurt you..."

Something about the eye contact had his brain twisting in his head. He couldn't think straight anymore. And his heart wanted more than anything to believe him. Why shouldn't it? Why would he doubt? Just because everyone else had lied...

"Uhm, I..."

Tears began to fall down the man's face. "If you don't want to believe, then fine." His head hung down, the hair curl bouncing only slightly at the movement, hands clenched in the sheets. "You can leave anytime you want to. I understand, though, why you would think I would do something like that on purpose. I'm just like America after all, aren't I?"

Prussia immediately tensed up. "No! You're not like America. Not at all." Seriously, the very idea was so absurd and to think that Canada thought...was that how the rest of the world saw him? As nothing more than a mirror to America? "Hell, it was probably that bastard's idea in the first place. But you..." He drifted off and glanced away, unable to take seeing those tears anymore and feeling his voice come out whispery and distant instead of hard and angry. "You really didn't mean it, did you?"

"No. None of it. When they asked me to sign, the only real details I received, other than the fact that we were separating you two, was that it would help prevent another catastrophic war. At the time that was all I wanted..."

Prussia grunted before hanging up the phone on his little brother without even an explanation. West would understand. After a moment in silence, he leaned his head back against the wall and stared up at the ceiling. "I really don't feel like standing up and coming over there." He sighed. "Guess I should apologize for reacting like I did, but you can't blame me. If you knew what -" he cut himself off, seeing those horrid memories creeping up to his mind's eye and shaking them away as fast as he could manage, mumbling, "Nope. Still can't talk about it."

He was surprised to hear words from Canada, as if he were desperate to keep talking with him. "I understand...I wouldn't last one day with him...I'm amazed you survived as long as you did without going insane."

"Hah..." he breathed, closing his eyes.

_You aren't insane. You talk to yourself, but who doesn't?_

_Shut up. That's not helping. _

_There are worse forms of insanity. That's why you aren't worried about it. That's why I'm not worried._

Pushing the inward conversation to the back of his mind, Prussia whispered a rhetorical question into the air. It was meant to be quiet and just something to fill the silence. "Do you ever feel like the whole world is against you? And yet if you acknowledge it, that's the first step to breaking down..."

It was meant to stay unanswered, meant to be pondered on, but Canada decided to spring a response to it. "Yes... A lot, actually..."

He winced, feeling his lips frown. "Heh. Sure. What about your brother? He seems so overprotective but at least he cares. Mine just yells at me and kicks me out of the house and then tries to say he cares, too."

_Now that's a bit too unfair._

"Alfred only cares when someone else is involved. Otherwise, he'll just walk right through me..."

"Heh. Guess we have a lot in common." He opened his red eyes and glanced over to the Canadian. "So, you gonna come over here or what?"

He met widening eyes. "S-So...you don't hate me?"

He shook his head, feeling a little spark of regret for making Canada think such a thing. Hate was too easy to claim these days. Too many people hated the world in general. Prussia had a lot of people that he _didn't like_, but only one that he absolutely _hated_.

"I'll always be pissed about it, honestly, and I'll never understand why it was necessary." _And I'll always feel like a failure for destroying everything Fritz worked so hard to build. _"But you're the least responsible so it's not fair to stay mad forever." He was feeling better. Everything was slowly being pushed aside going back to the little box that held his unwanted, unawesome emotions. So, feeling a little childish, he pouted his lip out. "Besides, I think I've deserved someone to lean on."

_And he deserves it too..._

With a light sniffle, Canada climbed off the bed and made his way over to where Prussia was sitting against the wall. "I'm so sorry...about everything..." He was surprised, pleasantly surprised, when Canada climbed into his lap and wrapped arms around him.

_Whoa...what...why..._

With a grunt in the back of his throat, he froze and stared back at him, eyes searching for the reason, curious and... _Pity...fucking...pity..._ Oh, to hell with it. Accepting the apology, Prussia pulled his arms around Canada and leaned his forehead down against the western nation's.

"I'm so sorry...I never meant...for any of that to happen...I-I think..." Canada mumbled something else, but then he was leaning down into Prussia's shirt, hiding his face and muffling his words.

Lifting his head and looking down to see Canada's hands clinging into his shirt, he blinked. "What was that? I missed the end of it..."

"Forget it. Forget I said anything." Before Prussia could comment, Canada lifted his head and looked to the side. "I wish...I wish it was me instead of you. I might as well be a part of America after all..."

"No!" He snapped, as he felt his eyes widen, felt his arms wrap around him tighter, pulling the young nation closer, clinging. "Nonononononono..."

_Gott, the very thought..._Imagining West taking his place was bad enough, but Canada? Oh, hell no!

"But...all that stuff that happened to you..."

Clinging as tightly as he could, Prussia shook his head. "I wouldn't wish that on anyone. What he did..." He left the sentence open, shuddering at the images. "I can only imagine how much worse it would have been for you." Prussia was a strong nation and he was stubborn; he could take a lot of shit; in fact, he did. But Canada?

"But I...you didn't deserve it at all...And I...I care for you too much to have that hanging over me."

_Care for you too much..._

There was a blush on his face. Damn those words. He cleared his throat and relaxed his hold. "Th-that's nice of you to say, but I don't think you realized all that happened. So please don't talk about it being you instead of me. Besides, I much prefer to be the one to suffer for the ones I care about."

_Ones I care about..._

_Shit! I just said something sappy!_

To his relief, Canada didn't notice it. "It's just not right – none of it is. It shouldn't have ever happened. I shouldn't have _let_ it happen."

"Damn right," he muttered before he could process the words. "No, wait." He sighed. "What is that stupid saying? Hindsight is 20/20...It's not like you were given all the information or like you knew what Russia was like. _Gott_, I was probably the only one to really know Russia, seeing as I have so much history with him and I fought against him so much in that war."

A hand was gripping his shirt, making him blink and stare down at it. "I just...can't help but blame myself for it..."

"Well go ahead then," he muttered, realizing this wasn't going anywhere. "But don't take all the blame. And don't you dare ever again wish it was you instead of me; you have no idea what you're wishing for."

"I'm so sorry..."

Prussia rolled his eyes. _Jesus Christ! Stop apologizing! _"I get it."

Canada looked up and he found their eyes meeting again. Silence stalked around the room, but when he licked his lips and tried to talk nothing came out. Those strange blue-violet eyes, two colors caught in a battle for dominance within those brilliant orbs. He had never been quite so caught on simply eye color before.

The kiss was sudden and unexpected, just as it had been the first time. His breath hitched and his eyes widened but he quickly came down from the shock to close his eyes and return it, no longer asking questions. Apparently, his lesson on taking risks and never backing down was beginning to have effect, and he was not about to complain.

Lips were against his own. Fingers were clinging to his shirt. The body on top of him shifted ever so slightly and he felt the heat beginning and he groaned, unable and unwilling to stop it. Gone were the thoughts of betrayal. Now all he could think of was the Canadian on top of him and the still-closed, still-chaste lips against his own.

His tongue flicked out and poked against those lips, prodding and asking for entrance because damn it all these innocent kisses weren't enough for him. To his surprise and delight, Canada opened his mouth, albeit a bit hesitantly. He entered slow and easy, not wanting to scare him away by diving in roughly, as much as he craved it. He tapped playfully against Canada's own tongue before exploring elsewhere because there was only a very shaky resistance that was easily pushed aside.

One of his hands moved up Canada's back and rested on the nape of his neck, fingers massaging along the hairline as he held his head up to better deepen the kiss. His other hand moved as well, going down, poking under a shirt and running up the skin of Canada's side.

For his effort he received a shudder and a cute little moan that made the heat explode across his body in a shiver of his own. But then the mouth on his was gone and hands were pushing against his chest. He grimaced and pulled away, if slowly, his back and head pressing against the wall behind him.

"Sorry. This is probably bad timing." His body was yelling at him to jump the cute Canadian on top of him, even as he forced himself back, forced himself to be good.

The super red face and stuttering apologies only made it worse. "N-no it's okay...I-I just...u-um..."

He groaned. "Yeah, this isn't going anywhere, is it?" He tilted his head to the side, voice suddenly hopeful and pleading. "I mean, unless you want to..."

"I-I mean...uh...I just..." Blue-violet eyes looked up at him, framed by a face so red it looked like an edible piece of fruit. "I just...wouldn't know what to do at all..."

And _that_ made the heat in his belly ten times _worse_. He groaned again, feeling his own face flush because of the cute words. With a breath, he slammed his head back against the wall, trying to knock sense into his brain, as his mind battled his hormones. "Oh _Gott..."_ And for some reason, he couldn't help but keep asking. "It really wouldn't be the right time...unless you feel ready."

Thankfully, those eyes looked away. "N-not really...I'm sorry..." But then those eyes looked back up at him, wide and a little gleam from a certain haze that the man probably didn't understand himself. "I-I'm kind of a...um...I'm kind of a...a virgin." The last came out in a squeak, but Prussia heard it.

Granted, he already knew as much from America's informative little phone call when he'd tried to have hot drunken sex. He sighed, "Mmmhmm, I can tell." He groaned again and clenched his teeth into a forced grin. "Would you mind getting off then? It's kind of _hard_ not to do anything."

Canada nodded and started to climb off, hanging his head as he started to move. His face flushed red again as he finally seemed to notice the bulge in Prussia's pants that was trying to say 'hello.' "I-I'm sorry..." he stuttered, climbing off quickly and stepping away. "I-I didn't mean for it to get that far."

Prussia cleared his throat. "Not your fault. Well...Not intentionally..." he laughed and glanced around the room, noticing the master bathroom door and standing up. "I'm gonna...go to the restroom," he managed awkwardly before fleeing into Canada's bathroom and slamming the door accidentally.

Well...

At least his stupidly un-awesome sad, mopey episode was over with. Gone were the painful memories. Gone were the feelings of betrayal. The feelings of failure.

In their place, he had nice, happy, not-so-innocent images of the cute Canadian. _Gott_, things really were getting out of hand. His body was demanding things before his heart was ready to travel that road.

_You're supposed to take relationships slowly, not rush into the good shit right away._

_Hah! Like I would do that..._

_You're obviously trying to..._

_Verdamt, why does he do this to me? What's so special about him? And why does it take until now – until I'm nothing but a freeloader – for me to meet him? I had so much to offer Elizaveta and she turned me down... This..._

_Whoa, one step at a time, remember?_

_Yeah...one step at a time. ...We should go out. I wonder what kind of things you do in Canada for a first date. Not that it'd be a date. I mean, not really, but..._

If he didn't know better, he'd swear the voice in his head was laughing at him.

~!~

_A/N: There! From angst to cute to funny, da? And I updated quickly this time! Haha!_

_Kairi: Wow, I haven't commented in awhile xD Well, I love Prussia's little insanity voice-in-his-head thing. XD (*coughFritzcough*) Little virgin Canada is adorable and you all know it~!_

_Reviewer Replies:_

_it's-an-Alice-thing: Glad you love it so much! Caps and all! Lol ~_

_black snow rose: It's complicated? Prussia just has to learn to put his past behind him and it wouldn't feel right if his stubborn self turned around and forgave everything that happened too quickly; besides, I gotta have some drama somehow xD_

_Wolfie338: I think they'll be fine ~ A little drama here and there but overall they turn out quite cute ~ Thanks for your review :)_

_UnderwaterAsphyxia: Thank you so much! I never thought the story of a country being dissolved would cause me heartache, but thanks to Hetalia – I cry over history now._

_IAmACat: Feel bad for both of them. They both deserve it. And yes! Good job reading in between the lines! Prussia has a lot in his past that he will slowly be 'getting over;' it becomes a bit of a character theme, I guess. And, yeah, Germany was just calling to check in like anyone else, but Prussia totally needs his brother to help calm him down now so it was perfectly timed. Maybe he'll eventually let Canada calm him down, who knows?_

_~~As always, thanks for all reviews/alerts/favorites; they spur me on to write faster; I mean, sometimes so much so that I update the very next day! (I mean, wow, I did a fast update for once o.o)~~_

_~Reda_


	11. Chapter 11

**Author Notes****:**

-I spy with my little eye, something beginning with "p" - it's _plot_! 11 chapters to get here. Action scenes will start to roll in eventually as well. But for now, enjoy!

-I made a oneshot for PruCan because I found a list of prompts and decided what-the-hell. There will be 30 in all and the collection is called "You Belong to Me" if you're interested. Yes, this is a shameless plug. What of it? ;P

-There's a quote from The Avengers in here; something Tony Stark said and omigosh I just had to use it.

~!~

One Month

Chapter 11

~!~

Canada had never felt so incredibly awkward in all his life.

His face was still beat red. And his feet were shifting back and forth, digging into the carpet, although he was sitting on the edge of the bed. Even though it hadn't been voiced, he knew exactly what Prussia was doing in the bathroom.

_No! Don't think about it! That's just -_

He gulped and put hands on his cheeks, closing his eyes as if that would help to chase the images away. He pushed his fingertips under his glasses and covered his eyes, trying to rub out the thoughts. He may be a virgin but he wasn't stupid and neither had he been locked away and sheltered from the rest of the world. Being invisible was quite different from being shut out, and being a virgin was also quite different from being completely unaware.

_Oh, but I didn't know that could happen so easily..._

Biting his lips, he shook his head and tried to think of other things, but he couldn't stop thinking of Gilbert. Of the strange hazy gleam those red eyes had shown when they'd been sitting so close, such a different look than the hurt and anguish and...anger...from earlier.

He made a mental note to never, ever bring up Prussia's past again. Just let him play the flute and don't ask questions. It was clearly still a painful subject, even after all these years.

Canada had to fight the tears from welling up in his eyes again. He still felt horrible for what he'd done in the past, but it made it worse now that he knew who Prussia was...now that he had seen the pain in those eyes, a pain that had obviously been hidden all this time. He was surprised to have gotten a sort of forgiveness from the albino; honestly, he still felt so horribly responsible.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a flushing toilet and he blushed red again. "Dieu...France would be mad at me," he whispered.

Before he could continue his train of thought, the bathroom door opened and the silver-haired red-eyed ex-nation stepped out looking positively refreshed, which honestly only made Canada blush redder. They met eyes for a moment until Canada shot his gaze away. Then a hesitant question came from the albino. "So, uh, is there anything interesting to do in town?"

"W-Well...I mean..." Canada forced his mind to clear, thankful for the question to focus his attention. "We could go to the park or something, but...there really isn't much going on this time of year..."

"The park would work," he heard Prussia say.

With a light smile, Canada looked back up at the albino, noting the man's choice of clothing – _light_ clothing for a Canadian autumn. "All right then. You're going to need a jacket, though."

Prussia stumbled a bit in his steps. "Ah – a jacket? B-but..."

As he was standing up, he tilted his head curiously. "But what?"

When Prussia glanced away from his gaze, Canada shrugged and made his way to his closet, shuffling through his own collection of jackets, picking out a certain red hoodie that should work wonderfully for the current weather. He could hear Prussia's mutter, "I didn't bring one."

He blinked and sighed. "Really? Doesn't it get cold out in Germany, too?" Whatever the reason, he found it absurd not to pack at least a light jacket but he was used to Alfred being stupid like that, too. Of course when he started to look for something for Prussia to wear he realized one important fact. "There's no way any of mine would fit you..."

Meanwhile, Gilbert was rambling as he answered Canada's question. "Yeah but its not exactly one of those things you have with you _all_ the time." He paused and seemed to grow distant. "Besides, after Russia I kind of hate the cold so..."

Matthew tensed immediately. So this was a bad idea, after all. "Th-then we probably shouldn't even go outside. It's rather cold now..."

"Oh I'll be fine," Prussia snorted. "We could stop by a store or something and buy one...if you wouldn't mind, that is."

Canada smiled as he turned back around to face him, shaking his head. "Not at all." He put a finger up to his lips and raised his eyes to the ceiling as he tried to map out the places near the park. He smiled again when he had his solution. "I know a store that's not too far from the nearby park, and we can walk to both of them."

"All right then!" Gilbert exclaimed, grinning wide.

Matthew watched as the albino moved to the bed and started packing the flute up, handling it almost reverently like it was one of his most precious possessions. As odd as it was to see a war-happy nation caressing a gentle classical instrument, Canada had to smile and concede that it _had_ to be special if Prussia would treat it so.

"You can put that up on the dresser over there," he said, pointing to his tall redwood dresser to his left, located beside the closet.

"Huh?" Gilbert blinked at him and then grinned again. "Oh. Awesome," he said as he placed the flute case carefully on the dresser, almost like he was tucking a child in for bed.

Matthew put his hands in the pockets of his coat and started walking out of the room, turning at the doorway to look back at the albino. When he wasn't looking, Gilbert had slipped on a pair of sunglasses and a ballcap, fixing the hat as if to hide his white hair. Canada blinked at the man's almost habitual actions and choice of wear. It was almost like Prussia had a habit of hiding his albinism whenever he knew he was going to be out in public, which seemed like an odd thing to do for someone who was known for being an attention-whore.

With a shrug, Matthew decided not to ask. He didn't want to open up a painful memory on accident again. "Ready to go?" He asked instead.

Prussia grinned at him and rushed over to his side, putting hands on his shoulders and pushing him toward the house's front door. "Yep!" He exclaimed as they walked outside. Leaving Canada to lock the door, the Prussian stepped down from the front porch and stopped at the walkway, facing the world. "Awesome me on a walk through a new land to have an awesome new adventure."

Matthew chuckled at the man's 'awesome' choice of descriptors, walking down to where the ex-nation was waiting. He didn't say anything but he smiled and took the lead down the sidewalk, feeling a bit of excitement bubbling in his stomach at the idea of showing his land to this European native.

"It's cold," he heard a few steps into the walk, glancing over his shoulder to see that the albino had wrapped his arms around himself and was shivering as he rubbed his bare arms.

Canada shook his head and faced forward again, clasping his hands behind his back. He was trying not to show how happy he was to be outside on a pleasant day, even if Prussia thought it was too cold. "Well, yeah, but it's not as bad as it could be."

"It gets worse?"

He giggled at Gilbert's appalled tone. "Oui. Remember, it's still autumn over here."

"Oh..." Prussia mumbled.

They walked in silence for a while, Canada wishing that the albino would stop trailing behind him. He wanted to walk _beside_ Gilbert, not in front of him, but he wasn't about to ask the Prussian to move up closer.

Actually, he was about to say something before the man mumbled, "Well, I suppose it's not as bad as Russia's place," just as a breeze decided to blow through. Canada felt nothing from it but a cool chill against his face, but apparently Prussia found it "not awesome," as he was repeating that very phrase.

Suddenly, Matthew was tackled from behind and he yelped as the Prussian's arms wrapped around him and the man's face started nuzzling into the back of his coat. "Wha-wha-what are you doing?"

He heard a content sigh. "Mmm...body heat." And then Gilbert actually decided to answer the question. "Keeping warm, of course." Like everyone kept warm by tackling someone else. "Keep your eyes focused forward and keep walking. Wouldn't want to miss the shop, would we?"

He blushed but found himself following Prussia's commands. His heart was racing but he couldn't deny the flutter in his stomach, the mix of excitement and...something unexplainable. For some reason, he really _enjoyed_ having the Prussian nuzzle against him and cling to him like this. Even if it made walking awkward, there was an aspect about it that made him want to keep doing this forever.

"Mmm...this is almost better than an actual jacket."

Face heating significantly at the almost exact replica of his own thoughts, Canada stuttered out, "P-please don't say that." Even if he agreed with Prussia's statement, he was not about to allow the albino a reason to actually continue the close, awkward position. He had a feeling if he gave Prussia any hint to liking his crazy antics that he'd never be free of them. "I'd really rather you have an actual jacket."

"Kesese~ Relax. I _did_ say almost." Apparently, Gilbert had only been trying to make him blush. Canada huffed. This guy... "Are we there yet?"

_And there's the childish attitude again..._

He sighed and glanced around, taking note of his surroundings instead of staring at the ground and his feet. And he was quite surprised to discover that, yes, actually, they _had_ arrived. "Uh...yeah..." He lifted an arm and pointed. "It's right over there..."

As soon as the store was identified, the albino sprang away and raced into the building. Canada sighed, partially at Prussia's childish reaction and partially at the loss of contact. Yeah, so, he wanted the man to hold onto him some more, but that was _too _embarrassing to admit out loud and certainly too forward to actually ask for him to do it again. So he'd hold his breath and push the personal want to the side for now. Honestly, it was enough just to be near the man.

_Oh, god, I'm growing attached... Why am I growing attached... He's not gonna stay more than a month...Even if he likes me, I'm sure he'll return to his home and his brother as soon as he can._

Sighing for a different reason now, Matthew followed Prussia's steps into the shop. He found the albino sitting crouched in front of air vents, smiling pleasantly at the heat, rubbing his hands together. His hat was turned around backwards and his silver hair was poking out around the edges but the sunglasses were still hiding his red eyes, even though it had to be incredibly dark now that they were inside.

Holding back a chuckle, Canada walked up to the small store's front counter, shifting his feet a little as he spoke to the clerk on duty. "Um...Do you think you have a fairly heavy jacket he could wear?" He asked, nodding his hair to the childish man still sitting in front of the heater like he was in heaven.

The slightly overweight fellow glanced between him and Gilbert before pointing across the store and answering gruffly. "You should be able to find something in the back, eh."

Canada nodded. "Thanks," and then made his way to Prussia, reaching out as if he were going to grab the man's arm and pull him along...but he thought better of it and kept his hand by his side. "Come on. They have some in the back."

"Mmkay," Gilbert muttered, stretching contentedly as he jumped to his feet and followed Canada to the other side of the small shop, eyeing the rack of random coat selections.

With a smile, Matthew sat on a bench set against the back wall and crossed his legs. "Find one you might like. I'll pay for it."

"Awesome," Prussia said before attacking the collection of jackets. Canada watched as he shuffled through the choices, giving each one little more than three seconds before moving on. He even mumbled things along the way, a simple comment for each one. "Unawesome. Unawesome. Unawesome." There was a pause at one that made Gilbert tremble slightly and swallow before he shoved it to the side quickly. "Historically unawesome."

Canada sighed. "This might be a while," he muttered to himself, bringing a hand up to his forehead.

Suddenly, Prussia gave an excited exclamation. "Hey, Canada, check this out!"

Blinking, Matthew stood up and walked over to where Gilbert was grinning at his discovery. "Uh. S-Sure? You want that one?"

He stared at the blue coat covered in several yellow chicks. For a split second, he couldn't understand why Prussia would get so excited over something so... and then he realized that the shade of blue was rather close – if not exact – to Prussian blue and the yellow chicks looked like little Gilbirds. Yeah, actually, this jacket was perfect for the albino.

"This is awesome enough for me."

Canada smiled and gave him a nod. "Oui. So, I take it that's the one you want?"

"Of course! Kesese~" And then Prussia started putting the jacket on, as if it was already his.

"W-wait!" Matthew shouted as his eyes widened. "I haven't bought it yet!"

"What's the problem?" The albino tilted his head, silvery-white bangs getting stuck behind his sunglasses. "You're still gonna buy it, aren't you?"

_What...has he never bought something before...?_

"Well, y-yeah, but...You can't put it on until after the fact. Otherwise, people might assume you're stealing it."

"What? Stealing?" It was not helping the fact that Prussia was not buying Canada's reasoning. "Can't I just walk up there and show him what I want and then you buy it and...Yeah, I'm not seeing the problem here."

Hand. Meet face. He sighed and narrowed his eyes in the best 'I'm-in-charge-so-do-what-I-say' face he could manage. "Take it off."

The sly grin that slid across Gilbert's face had him re-playing his choice of words. Even if Prussia was following the command, he still got the last laugh. "Careful with what you say, Birdie. I almost want to take that to mean something else."

"N-no! That's not what I meant, eh!" Canada yelled, waving his arms about and feeling the warmth on his face. "I-I just-"

"Kesese~" Prussia chuckled as he handed the jacket over. "Whatever. You know what you meant."

Before he could register what he was doing, his hand reached out and snatched the jacket from him – and his other hand slapped the extended arm. "Stop it!"

He spun around, still blushing, and stomped to the front counter, hearing the Prussian laughing behind him. Thankfully, there wasn't much hassle in buying the jacket, though the store clerk did seem to be quieter than normal. There was just the slightest strange feeling like he was being watched, but Matthew easily attributed that to the annoying, perverted man behind him.

With a huff, he tossed the paid-for coat to the ex-nation and stomped outside into the cool air again. It was always easier to calm down in the cold. Prussia may hate the cold, but Canada loved it. He also loved the peace and quiet of the small town he had chosen to live in. Simple, laid-back. It was easy to relax here.

Behind him, Gilbert was still chuckling. Then again, the man seemed to be the type that was always grinning about something anyway. "Oh yeah, this is a lot better, Canada. So...where's the park?"

He tensed at hearing his country name again. The first time he could count as a slip of the tongue. This... "Not too far," he said hastily. "Just a few blocks this way," he mumbled as he started to walk again, knowing Prussia was going to trail behind him _again_. "And do me a favor: _don't_ call me Canada in public. It might attract unwanted attention."

Half a second of confused silence and then... "Uh. Why? And what am I supposed to call you?"

Rolling his eyes, Canada kept his eyes forward as he threw his voice over his shoulder. "It's complicated, Gilbert. Our bosses had a huge meeting about it after a certain incident with Australia."

Another second of confused silence. "Wait – what happened with Australia?"

"Well, he was very 'in-your-face' about being a nation..." _Not unlike you, Prussia. _"...and one day some group of spies tried to capture him and get some information out of him." He sighed. "It was a really big deal." He stopped his steps and spun to face the albino, unable to stop himself from smiling at the sight of Gilbert in sunglasses, a hat turned around correctly now, and a hoodie with the hood on top of his hat; what a strange choice of fashion. "How do you not know this?"

"No way! That happened? Keh," Gilbert scoffed, crossing his arms. "I wouldn't let that happen to me; what a loser." Apparently, the ex-nation was avoiding the question of not knowing such important information. Perhaps he had been excluded from the knowledge because he wasn't a nation anymore; perhaps they figured no one would care or remember Prussia or know that the representative still existed.

Whatever the reason, Canada let it go. At least Prussia knew now. Shaking his head, he sighed. "Just remember to call me Matthew, all right?"

"Fine, fine..." Gilbert rolled his eyes as if he wasn't taking it seriously. In fact, he was grinning as he stepped up to stand beside Canada, nudging him with his elbow. "Hey, Birdie, we're on first name basis now."

_What? You've been calling me a nickname this whole time and now you're trying to make a big deal out of this 'call me by first name'? You, sir, make very little sense sometimes. Then again, I guess that's you._

"Yeah," he said, glancing down. "I guess we are."

"Don't worry. The Great Prussia will protect you from nation-kid-nappers."

As Canada groaned, Gilbert cracked up. _Can you not take this seriously? Even if you're an ex-nation now, you still shouldn't be saying it so loudly. That's exactly what got Australia into trouble. Did I not just explain that to you?_

"Gil, stop it!" He snapped. "It was a serious matter, and our bosses are more paranoid about everything because of it!"

"Kesese~ Oh come on. It's hilarious to even think about." Prussia had a hand up to cover his laughing grin. "What kind of nation lets himself get kidnapped by mortals?"

_Oh, so that's it? You still separate yourself from normal humans? And here I thought you had a special relationship with one of your kings...why do you have such a low opinion of non-nations?_

"Whatever. Just don't let it even come close, all right? God only knows what they'll do."

The ideas started to enter his mind unwillingly and he found himself trembling, because _yes _he was terrified of getting caught. Australia hadn't been the same since his capture. Even if they'd freed him quickly, there was clearly a scar. Having mortals know about them and _hate_ them because of what they were...and humans with such focused hate could do terrible things... Why couldn't Prussia take this seriously? He should know better than any of them what hatred did to humans...

"All right. All right," Gilbert said, his voice softer, his arm wrapping across Matthew's shoulders. "Hey, seriously! Don't worry. You've got awesome me to protect you from any silly nation-nappers."

For some reason, the idea of being protected by the war-loving nation helped him to relax. The comforting touch and reassuring words...he smiled and nodded. "Merci..."

Gilbert didn't say anything else but he reached up to adjust his sunglasses and started walking again. This time they walked side by side. Although Prussia brought his arm down and refrained from touching him, Canada still felt glad to have the albino now walking _with_ him instead of _behind_ him. Maybe the talk of nations being captured had affected the cocky Prussian after all.

After a while, he stopped and held his arms out. "There, we're here." He smiled, gesturing at the park entrance. "It's not anything special, but it's peaceful."

He looked to Gilbert who seemed to be staring and memorizing every critical detail he could find. The sunglasses came off for a second, smiling over at Matthew. "Yeah. Nice." The red eyes glanced over at everything again, noticing the people walking dogs nearby and then he put his glasses back on to cover his albinism. It _must_ be an old habit. "So, what exactly do you _do_ at a park?"

"Well, uhm..." And here, Canada was at a loss for words. It never had mattered before. After all, such things weren't so much about what you did but who you were with. Apparently, Gilbert was someone who went out to _do_ something specific. He tried to think of all the reasons for going to a park that involved actually _doing_ something. "You walk, and talk, and sit, and uh...The local kids play around here a lot, too."

Yeah, he couldn't think of anything specifically interesting. Gilbert made a noise in the back of his throat and then held his arms out in a shrug. "Lead the way then."

Tilting his head to the side, Canada stared at him. "Wait, what?"

"Well its your park so I figured, you know, you can decide what we do here." Was that a blush? Was Prussia blushing?

Realizing that yes, he was, made Canada start to blush. _Oh damn it. _"Um...Actually, if the lake is frozen over, we might could skate around a bit..."

The very idea seemed to set Gilbert off guard. "Do what? Skate? On ice?"

_Oh come on. You have to know what ice skating is..._

"Yeah. Ice-skating. Do you not have it in Germany?" _You have to know...Pancakes I can forgive, but not knowing what ice-skating is would just make you dense..._

The albino turned his head to the side as if he suddenly found the ground _over there_ much more interesting. "There's a difference between having it in your country and knowing how to..."

_Oh. That makes sense. That I can understand._

"Well I could teach you." Matthew smiled. "It's impossible to not love it."

"Keh. I can't promise to love doing something so crazy." What? Prussia backing down from something crazy? There _had_ to be more behind this new discovery. "Besides, are you sure it's cold enough?"

Canada shrugged. "Here's hoping." He crossed his fingers and then held a hand out toward the albino. "Come on! It's right over here."

Without realizing what it indicated, Prussia easily grabbed his hand and Matthew had to work not to fly through the park walkways. He heard Gilbert murmur, "This better not end badly."

So he chuckled, "No, it won't." Of course, when they arrived at the little lake, Canada felt his smile drop. "O-Oh...It's not frozen yet."

"Oh look at that," Prussia said, his voice louder and sounding almost relieved. "No ice. Now what?"

_You sound way too happy about this. I love skating, you jerk. _

With a sigh, Canada dropped his hold on the Prussian's hand and shrugged. "Well, I guess we'll just walk around then..."

Before he could start walking, though, Gilbert slapped his arm. Matthew raised his head, feeling confused and a little hurt because he had gotten his hopes up for nothing and now... But Prussia was grinning.

"Tag. You're it," he said before running away and disappearing in the foliage around the corner.

For a moment, Canada stood there, blinking, definitely confused. Tag? As in... He shook his head and found a smile forming on his face. Such a child...

Okay then, he'd play this game. He had to wonder how good a war nation was at running and hiding. He hadn't played such a game since Alfred and he were little kids – and at that time, America had yet to become a super military power in the world. Setting his feet, he prepared himself to chase the childish albino through the park.

And then a voice behind him interrupted everything before it could even begin. "Excuse me. I'm a little lost. Can you show me how to get back to Main Street?"

Spinning around, Canada smiled at the stranger and nodded his head, always willing to help one of his countrymen. "Yeah. Sure."

Gilbert could wait. "My car is this way," the man said and started off in the direction of the park entrance.

Canada nodded again and followed without problem. This shouldn't take too long. Then he could get back to his day with Gilbert. He wished he had gotten Prussia's phone number before separating from him, but helping with directions shouldn't take too long.

Still...

Something was bothering him, like an itch on his shoulder blade.

_Calm down, Matt. There's nothing to worry about. Remember? Gilbert's here. He's probably just watching you from some hidden place waiting for you to chase after him. There's no reason to worry._

_No reason at all._

~!~

_A/N: Or is there? Dun dun dun...Foreshadowing like crazy in this chapter. LIKE. CRAZY. (Feels like it's rushed, but again, hard to control pacing when I'm translating everything from a role-play in which we intentionally rush things)._

_Reviewer Replies:_

_Kara kun: Thanks! Glad you're enjoying it! _

_Wolfie338: Lol go brush your teeth...or something...tooth decay is serious business... Seriously, though, thanks for the kind words~ I love writing fluff and it feels wonderful to know others love reading it! _

_brattyteenagewerewolf: I know! I love Prussia ~ he's adorable especially with Canada ah ~_

_Sami199: Prussia's history is amazing interesting. Especially with Old Fritz (Fredrick the Great). I totally suggest looking it up sometime. Thanks for the review ~ Glad you love that line haha xD_

_black snow rose: lol hell is freezing over because Prussia is holding back? I dunno...or maybe he's just actually a nice guy deep down. Thanks ~ I'm glad he's coming off as sweet now ~_

_BlueRavenQuill: Thanks so much! Glad to hear the characters really ARE developing and I'm not just trying too hard. Yay ~_

_iivogelchen: Thank you! Ah, I hope the cuteness at the end made up for the tear fest in the beginning. I like to ride the balance scale on such things (sometimes). _

_~~Thanks for all reviews/alerts/favorites; I appreciate them all!~~_

_~Reda_


	12. Chapter 12

**Author Notes****:**

- This is where I switch scenes in order to prolong the suspense.

- Oh! Current events ~ I mean, economy-wise. Dude, I looked stuff up, seriously, freakin' Hetalia fanfiction making me research more than I've ever researched before. Ah hah. And I still don't feel adequate enough to talk about it, but well, here's to trying! Also, I'm American, so my knowledge of Europe economies is pretty much zilch because we don't really learn about it – at least not in my school. Ah well, I'll start my Economics and Business classes this year, so maybe I'll understand more soon.

- Yay GerIta!

- By the way, Italy point-of-view is descriptive. He does notice random details, I guess.

-There's a "Dresden Files" reference in here this time. _(Kairi: Dresden is mine, everyone else back off!)_

~!~

One Month

Chapter 12

~!~

It was a work-from-home day, which meant Germany was in his study in his house instead of at the office with his boss. He was still dressed for work, of course. Ludwig had the belief that one's attitude and performance reflected the way one dressed. His brain focused easier on paperwork when he was in a suit, just as military action felt more precise when his uniform was nice and neat. Even if he was working from home, dredging through economic paperwork, he had gotten dressed in a suit, complete with tie and shined shoes.

He groaned at the latest economy report. The EU was doing terrible these days. Everyone around him was falling apart, it seemed. Everyone starting to ask for help to shoulder the economic burden.

Which wasn't really fair, considering Germany still had to pay back reparations for WWII. Even if no one had spoken of it, there was still that little bug in the air, hanging around his head, reminding him of the fact that he had better help them with their failing economies or they just might play dirty and bring it up. Besides, the catch22 of joining the Euro meant they would rise together – and fall together.

He groaned. Again. Things were such a mess right now. How was he supposed to come up with a solution when everywhere he turned there was more bad news?

"Ve~ Germany~ What are you doing?"

Italy's entrance was to be expected, really. Ludwig barely looked up when the Italian walked into the orderly but cramped study. He watched from his peripheral as Feliciano pulled a chair from the computer desk and rolled over to sit next to him, finding it harder to concentrate with his Italian sitting so close. Feli always did this to him.

Keeping his eyes on the paperwork, Germany answered with yet another groan. "I'm trying to figure out a solution to this economic catastrophe." He and his boss had been trying to think of a solution for months – or was it years now? - but they had started to argue so Germany had taken more "work-from-days" than he had in a while; overall everything was causing a gigantic headache.

"I'm sure it will work itself out eventually." He sighed at Italy's overly optimistic attitude. Feliciano was almost as uninterested in economics as Prussia was these days.

At the thought of his brother, Ludwig glanced over to the phone sitting on his desk, the one that still had Prussia's profile pulled up from when he had called to check up on Gilbert, naturally worried about the situation between his extroverted brother and the nearly-invisible Canadian nation. Especially after the last call.

Italy must have been following his gaze because he reached out for the phone and picked it up to blink and then tilt his head, the hair curl bouncing in Germany's vision, almost taunting him. "Did Prussia call earlier?"

He sighed and glanced to him with a frown. "Well...I called to check in on him and..." He cut off and shook his head with a grunt. "It's his problem," he muttered, turning his eyes back to the economic reports, trying to focus on work.

Italy moved his head, curl bouncing in the air again just at the edge of Germany's peripheral. "Hm? What's his problem?"

Germany tried to ignore the question, tried to focus, tried to say-without-speaking that he wanted to drop it and get back to work. Of course, Italy would have none of that. His Italian put a hand on his lap and leaned over, rolling the chair closer. Ludwig soon found his vision filled with only Feliciano being curious, worried, and ever-always-insistent.

Giving in, Germany sat back in his chair and explained as concisely as he could manage. "He was talking about feelings of betrayal, which he never does...And then proceeded to hang up on me." Yes, that was what he was worried about. As much as he could understand why Prussia wouldn't feel the need to say goodbye, it had still been abrupt and without warning. Of course, that could mean that his focus had turned to Canada – which could be either good or bad, to be honest. With a sigh, Germany put a hand to his head, rubbing at his temple. "I don't know if sending him out on his own was such a good idea."

Italy frowned, "But he's not alone, right? He has America's brother with him."

"Exactly," Ludwig said. "And I think he has discovered that Canada was actually part of the allies." He closed his eyes, thinking of all the possibilities, imagining his brother shouting and blaming the little Canadian for everything that had happened after the war, even if Canada had little to nothing to do with the decisions made. "I should probably call him."

"Wait," Italy said as he sat up, pulling back, setting the phone on the desk. "What exactly are we talking about?"

Opening his eyes, Germany faced his Italian and opened his mouth. He took a breath, ready to explain, and then let it out and shook his head. "It's impossible to talk about it. Let's just say I'm worried...because he's been..._different_...since he's been back from Russia."

Italy frowned and looked away, staring at some unimportant speck on the wall. "I'm sorry that all of that had to happen to you both."

"Hey," Germany said as he leaned forward and put a hand on his Italian's cheek, putting their foreheads together. "You are not allowed to apologize for any of that. It's in the past and it will stay in the past." Pulling back, he sighed, turning his eyes back to the phone still set on Prussia's profile. "_Mein bruder_ however..."

"Ti amo," Italy whispered. "He'll be fine. I'm sure of it." There was a pause and then, "You're both really strong."

Letting out a tense breath, Germany let himself nod. "Yeah, he'll be fine." He glanced back down to the paperwork and found himself groaning yet again. "I really should be focusing on work and not his problems."

"You work too much," Italy said with a pout. "It's not good for you."

Feeling himself chuckle, Germany turned to his Italian. "And _you_ don't work enough, Italein," he said while poking the brunette's forehead as if he could poke the message into his brain.

He could swear the pout grew. "Well, I don't work too much because Romano does it all for me."

Before anything else could be said, Germany's phone began to ring. At the sound of Prussia's ring tone, Ludwig shot his hand out with lightning speed to grab the phone and touch the screen in order to answer. "_Bruder_, is everything okay?"

The voice that came through sounded anything but okay. As his brother shouted into the phone, not in anger at least, Ludwig could feel his own heart rate start to speed up because of the obvious panic in that usually calm voice. "West! I lost Birdie! I turned away for like, a minute, and he disappeared!"

Granted, he had no idea who this "Birdie" was... "Slow down. Who's missing? What happened?"

"Birdie! Err – Canada! He's gone! And right after I promised I would protect him!"

Even though he could feel the panic, he did not understand and so he blinked and tried to stay calm and rational as he focused on getting information out of his upset brother. "Wait, what do you mean he's gone? Where are you?"

"That's just it! I don't know! I mean, I'm at some park that's a little ways from his house but that's pretty much it!"

"Oh, so he's just lost in park?" _Really, bruder, why are you freaking out? Just because you two got separated... _"Why don't you stand still at an entrance and see if he shows up."

"I don't think so, West. Why would he get lost? He's obviously been here a lot!"

Germany sighed. _I didn't mean that he was lost; I meant that you were probably lost. But I didn't want to hurt your pride in saying that..._

Beside him, Italy shifted. "What's wrong, Germany?"

Shifting the phone from his mouth, Ludwig turned to Italy to respond to him. "Canada's gone missing."

"West, what do I do?" Prussia yelled into the phone.

At the same time as Italy tensed. "Wait...What kind of missing?"

He narrowed his eyes at Italy's statement. "What do you mean 'what kind of missing'?"

"West?" Prussia's voice came again, but Germany ignored it.

There was something he had to know, something that Italy knew that he was forgetting. "Well, I mean, remember that ordeal with Australia?"

_Wait, what? _"...that ordeal with Australia?" Germany repeated, ignoring the whining of his brother coming from the phone.

"Si. You know. When those activists kidnapped him..." Suddenly realization dawned on him, but Italy wasn't done. "It took a few years to get him back from them."

"Years?" He repeated, feeling his mouth go dry, now understanding Prussia's plight and panic. "_Bruder_!" He snapped into the phone. "How long has Canada been missing?"

"A few minutes...why?"

"I'll explain when I get there," Germany said, standing up, resting the phone on his shoulder as he started to walk around the room, needing to walk to get the worry out of his pent-up legs. He'd already made the decision to fly over and help his brother find the missing Canadian. If things were really as bad as they could be...then they had to move fast. "For now, just stay in the vicinity and keep your eyes peeled for suspicious people."

"Right," Prussia said into the phone, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I'll be right here – next to the lake."

_Like I know where that is...whatever...if it helps him calm down..._

"Good. I'll call you when I get across the ocean. Do what you can, but don't do anything crazy, understand?"

He could hear his brother huff over the phone, obviously insulted that Germany would come to such a conclusion but he didn't comment on it. "Fine. You better hurry your ass over here."

Ludwig nodded even if Gilbert couldn't see him. "I'll be there as soon as I can," he reassured before hanging up and turning to his Italian, who was standing up and staring at him, hopping from foot to foot as he waited for Germany to explain. "I got Prussia waiting; I doubt he'll stay still long. Canada's missing and we need to look for him. Who else needs to know?"

Concise. To the point. Italy smiled and then dropped it to a frown as he nodded. "S-si...America needs to know. And I'm coming with you!" The smaller nation said as he rushed over and grabbed Germany's hand in his own.

With a smile, Ludwig squeezed back. "I knew you would." With his free hand, he opened the phone, scrolled down to America's number, and then hesitated.

"Germany? Is something wrong?"

"I was just thinking...What if America blames Prussia? I might want to wait until I'm closer so he doesn't do something to make things worse." He could already imagine the brash youthful brother of Canada colliding with his brother. The product was not a happy one.

Italy nodded. "Si, that makes sense." Before anything else could be said, his Italian started tugging on his hand, leading him to the bedroom. "Come on. We need to pack and get going."

_Yes, we need to hurry. Bruder, please don't do anything too crazy..._

~!~

It was dark when they finally arrived. The air was cold and it smelled like an open forest – pine or oak or something _tree_. Italy didn't really know how to distinguish the different scents of certain trees. It just reminded him of a forest instead of a small town, like it was a place that couldn't decide if it wanted to be out in the country or part of a city. There was even the sound of owls and other night creatures, and he was sure he'd seen a bat flying around as they were driving out here – even if Germany had sighed and shaken his head as if he was being silly again.

Now, they had arrived at the driveway to the Canadian house, which seemed small yet homey. Plain yet beautiful in its simple design. A few modest steps beckoned from the gravel walkway, leading to a porch or veranda or whatever-it-was-called that stretched around the front of the house, covered with a simple screen, probably to catch the insects. There was a porch swing off to the side and something else hunched by the front door.

Italy frowned as he stood by the street, waiting for Germany to pay the taxi driver. It was dark in the house. No lights reflected from any of the windows. And it was quiet. Which made everything feel very...off...

Wasn't Prussia supposed to be here? Why would all the lights be off? Wouldn't Prussia have been waiting for them? He could not imagine what Germany would have been like had _he_ gone missing, but -

Then again, it wasn't like Prussia and Canada's relationship was anything like his and Germany's. He was probably hoping for too much when he tried to force them together. Yet Prussia had called for help when Canada went missing. There must be _something_ between them then, right?

Germany groaned behind him. "I really hope he's not roaming around the town."

So, his German lover had come to the same conclusion. Where was Prussia if not in the house? Chewing his bottom lip, Feliciano reached out and grabbed Ludwig's hand, gripping hard for a second before relaxing. He was worried.

"I don't really blame him," he said, shuddering at the thought of _him_ being the one missing, wrapping around Germany's arm at the very thought.

Ludwig pulled his arm free of the grip, making Italy's heart beat fast, and then the arm was wrapped around his waist and he relaxed. Germany would protect him. Of course Germany would protect him. Why was he worried?

_Oh, poor Canada. I hope he's okay...wherever he is..._

They walked together up the driveway, turning at the little gravel walkway, adding to the night sounds with their boots _crunch-crunch-crunching_ against the rocks. By the time they'd reached the cover of the porch, Italy had calmed down and had changed his worry for himself over to worry for Canada, wondering how strong the nearly-invisible western nation was when it came to such things, wondering how strong anyone could be when it came to nation-napping. How had the experience changed Australia? What would it do to Canada?

"..._Bruder_?"

At Germany's disbelieving question, Italy forced his thoughts and eyesight to the here-and-now. He found himself staring at a pair of red eyes gleaming in the darkness. As he blinked, he began to realize that the huddled form he had seen beside the door...

"Hey, West. Glad to see you made it."

"Prussia!" Italy exclaimed, feeling his eyes widen to see the albino ex-nation sitting hunched over against the door, eyes seemingly distant. "Are you all right? Why are you just sitting out here?"

A bottle was raised into the air and then pressed to the albino's lips. Italy blinked when he realized what it was. Beer. Prussia was drinking – _had been_ drinking if the slur in his next response was anything to go by.

"Already searched the whole damn town. No one's seen nothing or heard nothing or even suspicious looking. Nice perfect little town." The Prussian let out a bark of laughter, making Feliciano wince because it sounded hoarse and forced and _so fake_. And Prussia hadn't even said something _funny_. Red eyes glanced up, eyelids dropping slightly. "'sides, I did wait by the lake like you told me to...Got too fucking cold so I had to walk. Decided to do some investigatin'..."

He tensed, both at Prussia's words and tone of voice and at the fact that Germany had dropped his arm. He reached over and gripped Ludwig's hand, squeezing to keep himself from trembling. Seeing Prussia in such a state...a sad, depressed drunk instead of happy and insane... It was... "A-and? What did you find?"

It was...

_...wrong_.

"He's fucked. I'm fucked." Italy winced at the words but continued to stare as the Prussian spread his arms out. "We're _all_ fucked!"

Gilbert pulled himself to his feet, wobbling a little bit before leaning over, putting an arm on Italy's shoulder and another arm on Germany's, his red eyes glancing between the two of them. When he spoke next, Italy could practically smell the alcohol and he did _not_ like the way that familiar grin twitched.

"Kesese...nation-nappers...that means everyone but me." Italy breathed as Prussia turned his attention to Germany, getting right up in his brother's face. "You better watch out. They're serious."

It took a moment for Ludwig to respond and when he did it was full of disbelief. "You're drunk."

Prussia barked another laugh as he pulled back. "Me? Drunk? Kesese ~ That's hilarious. I'll have to remember that one."

Wincing, Italy stared at the ground, not liking the state of Ludwig's inebriated brother. "Prussia...maybe you should go inside."

"Go inside? Why? Canada's not in there." Feliciano looked up at Gilbert's words just in time to watch him take another chug from the beer bottle.

Thankfully, Germany seemed to have snapped into the reality of the situation. "Feli has the right idea, _bruder_. You're not going to accomplish anything out here, especially not while you're drunk."

Nodding, Italy stepped forward and reached for the beer bottle as if he could swipe it from the drunk Prussian. "You really shouldn't be drinking anymore. What would Canada say?"

To his distress, Prussia managed to keep the bottle away from his trying-to-be-helpful hand. Gilbert stepped away, too, until his back was up against the front door and his eyes were glaring at the both of them. "Hah! You can't tell a Prussian to stop drinking! I am the Great Prussia! I do what I want!"

As he frowned, Ludwig stepped forward to force control on the situation. The larger German brother managed to grab the bottle and started fighting the albino for it. Though Gilbert was still trying to wrap his mouth around the damn thing. "I'm afraid Feli has a point," Germany said as he fought to pull the pale fingers from the glass. When he was finally successful, he turned and tossed the bottle to Italy. "Put this some place where he can't get it."

While Prussia complained and whined and growled some obscenities at his brother – clearly not happy at being torn from his alcohol – Italy caught the beer bottle and immediately found a trashcan to toss it in. No one could get to it if it was thrown away. He turned back to the German brothers in time to see Gilbert slung over Ludwig's shoulder, throwing a childish tantrum even as the stronger of the two kept him pinned.

Rushing over, Italy opened the front door so Ludwig could find somewhere to dump the drunk and struggling Prussian. "Is he going to be all right, Germany?"

Indignantly, Prussia growled. "Of course I'm all right – I'm fucking Prussia!"

"And you've had way too much to drink," Germany responded quickly with a sigh, dropping his brother on the couch.

"Not...possible..." Prussia slurred, tipping over as if he were trying to stand up and only succeeded in lying down on the sofa. Another curse rose from the man's lips but it was hushed and the red eyes closed and soon the albino stopped moving altogether, having passed out from too much alcohol consumption.

Ludwig turned to face Italy, worry on his face clearly marked by the frown and furrowed brows. "I want to say he's been through worse, but I've never ever seen him drunk like this."

Italy frowned and grabbed his German lover's hand. "He's probably going through a lot. I mean, what would you do if it happened to me?"

The response was almost instant. "Don't even speak of such a thing, Italein. I cannot imagine. You know I'd tear into every possibility in order to uncover the mystery."

"I know, but still – it _could _happen. You know it's not too difficult for people to capture me."

"Yeah..." Germany drifted off and Italy let himself cling to him, hugging him tight.

After a moment, he whispered, "We need to find Canada soon. He's probably really scared." _If Canada is anything like me...he's probably terrified..._

"Right," Ludwig breathed, "But where do we start? If _he _has already searched the whole town -"

"I-I don't know," Italy muttered, hiding his face in Germany's shirt. "Maybe they left town." He breathed in the scent of his German lover, catching the musky smell of sweat, probably caused from his worry. After a moment, he looked up. "We still need to tell America and England."

Germany hummed his response but pulled back a little and reached for his phone.

~!~

England was washing dishes. After all, if he was not allowed to cook the least he could do was clean up. America was in the other room. From the sound of it, he was playing some video game, shouting at "noobs" in one breath and laughing and carrying on the next. He wasn't sure what game Alfred was playing now, but it never interested England one bit. He would never understand Al's obsession with the war-based games. Did he not get enough of that in the real wars? Or was it always a game to him?

He sighed and shook his head, pushing the thought to the side as he set another dish on the counter to be dried. Not having a working dishwasher annoyed America, but Arthur was quite used to technology failing to work around him. Magic tended to mess with things in the oddest ways, after all.

Humming to himself, he didn't notice the cell phone ring going off right away. It wasn't until silence filled the room and he heard America's shout from the other room that he realized what had happened. "Hey, Iggy! Isn't that your phone?"

Trying not to blush, he huffed and shouted back. "Yes it is...Don't call me that!"

"Whatever, dude!" America laughed before turning his game volume back on and returning to his little pretend world.

England rolled his eyes but reached for his phone, "Hello? This is Arthur."

"Hello, Arthur. This is Ludwig. Feli and I are at Matthew's place and we have some...bad news."

At the knowledge and list of names, England immediately felt his body tense up in warning. Something bad had happened. Something dealing with Matthew and Gilbert. Bloody hell, but he was thankful Germany had called him instead of America first.

As his brow furrowed, he set the dishes to the side and sat down in the closest wooden kitchen chair. "I'm listening."

He could hear the German gulp through the phone. _Something really bad..._ Tensing up, Arthur bit his lip to keep from exclaiming too loudly when he heard whatever was coming. "A few hours ago, I got a call from Gilbert informing us that Matthew had gone missing. And to make matters worse, it seems to have been a purposeful nation grab."

Feeling a shudder rush down his spine, England sat up straighter and forced his serious business mood into his voice. "I'll tell America and we'll be right over. Don't try anything until I get there."

Ludwig let out a relieved breath. "Good. Okay, I'll work at keeping Gil sober."

"What?" Arthur exclaimed before he could stop himself, slapping a hand over his mouth before continuing. "He got himself drunk?" He whispered in a tight voice before groaning. "Alfred is _not_ going to be happy one bit."

"Iggy?" He cursed, looking up to see Alfred hanging in the doorway. "What happened?"

Before he could respond, Germany continued the conversation, having no idea that America had just shown up in the room. "Yeah. Just try to keep him calm. I have a feeling their meeting is not going to go well."

He snorted. That was an understatement. "Of course it's not. These are the two most egotistical beings we are talking about."

As America tilted his head and stepped closer, Germany sighed through the phone. "And I thought they could get along because of their similarities. Anyway, just do what you can. Should we expect you in the morning sometime?"

"Yeah. Sometime in the morning," Arthur confirmed before hanging the phone up and meeting the curious, worried blue gaze of his boyfriend. "Alfred, you have to promise to stay calm."

The eyes widened and hands slammed into the table as he leaned over and exclaimed. "It's Matthew, isn't it?"

Arthur groaned. America never listened to him. Putting a hand to his head in preparation for the headache, he sighed, "Yes. It appears he's been -"

~!~

Sitting down in the armchair next to the couch with Italy in his lap, Germany set the phone on the coffee table and wrapped his arms around his lover. "This was not at all how this was supposed to happen," he muttered.

Italy trembled and sighed sadly. "I never meant to put him in danger. This is all my fault, Germany. If I didn't get jealous then -"

Feeling alarmed that his Italian could even be blaming himself, Ludwig reacted quickly and pressed a single finger to the lovely lips, successfully making him quiet. "Don't blame yourself. This is _definitely_ not your fault." When Feliciano looked away from him as if not believing him, Ludwig grabbed his arms and leaned down to put his eyes on level with his Italian's face. "Feli, look at me." When Italy did as requested, Germany met the gaze and held him. "This. Is not. Your fault."

He nearly cursed when Feliciano started to tear up. "But...I practically forced him out of the house. And if Prussia didn't come over here, then...I don't know..." The brunette's head came down and buried itself in Germany's shirt, as if trying to hide.

With a sigh, Germany let him cry and opted to just hold him close. "Seriously, Italy, it was time for him to get out of the house anyway, and you had a great idea. Sometimes things just turn out badly and it's no one's fault."

"But," Italy sniffed. "How can it be no one's fault? That doesn't make any sense, Germany!"

"Well, uh, it doesn't solve anything to blame yourself or anyone else for that matter."

Which was true. It _didn't_ solve anything to place blame.

Thankfully, Italy understood and took the comforting words this time, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes. "I guess not." His Italian's eyes met with his again. "But what are we going to do? Canada's only the beginning!"

"Hm?" Germany tilted his head. "How is Canada only the beginning?"

"Why would they stop with him? If they have already successfully captured one nation, what's going to stop them from capturing another?" Italy seemed about ready to panic, even though he was sitting in Germany's lap and completely safe right now.

"Are you saying it's more than an isolated incident?" For a moment, Ludwig pondered the thought, wishing he had paid more attention to this one-world-government movement, wishing he knew more about Australia's incident. "Oh, _Gott_, what if it is?" He whispered and pulled Italy close to him, clinging tightly, possessively. "I will not let you out of my sight."

"_Grazie_, Germany, for always being there to protect me."

Ludwig smiled and then yawned. "You're welcome," he whispered, closing his eyes as he began to rub the back of his little Italian as soothingly as possible.

Sleep was not long in coming. It had been a busy day, after all. Filled with emotional roller-coasters. Dreams were not pleasant that night, for any of them.

~!~

_A/N: Hey, another 5,000-word chapter. And so many point-of-view characters! Hope you managed to keep up with all of them._

_Kairi: Italy is in Germany's lap, yay~! Glad you fixed my little obsession with that xD (For these other peeps, let's just say in the RP I put Ita in Germany's lap every single chance I got. … which I admit is a little overkill. Nyon~)_

_Reviewer Replies:((I think I'm going to start replying via the website, at least for those that have accounts; it's easier and quicker.))_

_Wolfie338: A lot of stuff is about to happen. Stuff, yes. I'm glad you like where it's going. Yay~_

_BlueRavenQuill: Nice catching the foreshadowing and uh...as far as Gil getting there in time...well...we saw how that turned out...Thanks for the review :) Hope you continue to enjoy!_

_brattyteenagewerewolf: I already sent you a reply to figure out what you said, lol. I like seeing other languages, honestly, I just need a translation haha ~_

_Kairi: you..._

_person: yes. Yes it does. Sowwy. Got to the suspense and drama now for sure. And action soon to follow..._

_Brakenpelt: The sad thing is I would probably just as easily get led away...I've been so lucky in my life, it's not even funny. Thanks for the review! Glad you like it :D_

_usukfan555: Thanks! I love the fluff and I'm glad it's loved by others too! Makes me happy to hear that~_

_Sami199: I know. Someone should tell that to such innocent-minded people. I'm sorry that cliffhangers make you sad. I hate them as a reader, as well, but as an author it's so much fun! Thanks for your review :)_

_IAmACat: lol "how to kidnap the naïve 101" Canada should totally know better but he's too nice to decline help...Aw Prussia playing tag was a last minute decision. Glad it came over as cute :D _

_Hatora Tomoen: Gosh, so demanding ;P And yeah, Mattie should have totally just given directions and not followed him but ah ~ what can you do with the naïve, really? Thanks for your review! ^_^_

_TheWeirdLittleSister: Thanks for the review. I'm glad it's coming off as adorable. I try so hard ~ And I hope this update is soon enough, lol. _

_~~Thanks for all reviews/alerts/favorites; I appreciate them all – 100 alerts wow!~~_

_~Reda_


	13. Chapter 13

**Author Notes****:**

-Prussia point of view! Yeah! Hangovers SUCK BALLS by the way, so I tried hard to work that in here. I mean, I had a chance with it for Canada earlier, but this time I have depressed!hangover-shit-feeling so...

-Kinda weird but I was listening to my Dubstep playlist while writing this. Dubstep is awesome.

-Random info: I changed my ring tone and notification settings on my phone to be Katarina (from League of Legends) saying "Let the bloodshed begin." It's _creepy as hell_ getting a notification for an email now. Every review/favorite/alert/PM/whatever in the middle of the night has me jumping up and then laughing at myself. Gods, so hilarious.

-More random info that you don't care about and has nothing to do with the story: I found this in my old deviantart comments of something I said 2 years ago: "haha... my thought on hetalia right now: i am so disturbed by hetalia yaoi... i mean they're countries! that's just weird! :shiver:" ...when the fuck did I change my mind? I don't even... (Kairi: IT WAS ME! =D I win~!)

**One Shot Gift Chance****:**

-Like I said earlier, every 50 reviews I gift a one shot. We're close to 100 now. Good luck~

~!~

One Month

Chapter 13

~!~

He woke up slowly, feeling like shit with a pounding headache. Opening his eyes made everything hurt worse so he closed them again and took a breath, trying to figure out why he felt so weak and sick and just generally _blah_. And then he remembered Canada. He remembered losing Canada. He remembered the thought of nation-napping, followed by the blame, the guilt, the pain...

...which all came back to him as he woke up to the world. He let out his breath in a groan and took in another gulp of air, smelling the alcohol that was clogging his senses and realizing right away why he had such a terrible headache.

"Fuck," he mumbled, opening his eyes slowly to meet the light of day, not recalling when he'd ever had a hangover this bad – or when he'd ever had a hangover period, for that matter.

Sitting up slowly, he recognized the couch he had been asleep on and the fact that he was wearing the same outfit as yesterday, including the new blue hoodie with the million yellow chicks. Which made him groan again as he was reminded of the events right up to the point of losing Canada. Why had he ever thought it would be a good idea to play a game that would leave him alone? Why? That had been so stupid...

_You should stop moping and figure out how to fix the problem._

He winced at the voice in his mind, swearing it echoed around his brain, hitting all the aches and making things twice as bad. Granted, it had a point. Even if his head was killing him, he _should_ get up and _do_ something. Drinking away his guilt hadn't worked. Even drunk he had felt terrible. Alone and anguished. And then West and his stupid little Italian had shown up.

Keeping a hand on his head, he stood up, looking slowly around the room to notice where the two visitors were currently sleeping. West was sitting in the armchair, his head lolling back against the cushioned chair. The stupid little Italian was curled up on top of West. The both of them were sound asleep and looking so incredibly comfortable and happy.

It made him sick. And angry. And jealous. And just generally upset.

_Birdie..._

Then the doorbell rang. He growled and crushed his hand into his head. The bell rang again. And again. And again. With an annoyed scowl, he gave in and slowly walked his way over to the front door, tearing the door open, ready to shout at whoever was on the other end.

His eyes widened instead at who he saw – and then narrowed – and then he grimaced. "Why are you here?"

England. And America. He was so dead. They had come at the worst possible time. Why had he gotten drunk last night? This hangover was going to make it hard as hell to think much less fight back when America started shouting.

At least Arthur was holding the pissed off American back for now even if he couldn't stop the words from escaping, "You lost my brother, you idiot! I will _kill_ you!"

Standing his ground, he clenched his hand into a fist – the hand that wasn't currently clutching at his hair and rubbing his scalp. "I only turned away for a second!" _Okay, it was more than a second but it might as well have been – I wasn't gone for that long! _"How does someone disappear that quickly? I was right there!" _Sort of._

"You turned away, didn't you?" America snapped. "You were supposed to watch over him!"

"I _was_ watching him!" He snapped back, raising his clenched fist. "How was I supposed to know someone could come up from behind us? I mean, really, how the hell does a nation get kid-napped in the first place?"

_Now that wasn't a very smart thing to say._

"Well you wouldn't know, would you?" America shouted, managing to push England back and standing straight on his own, his hands fisted as well.

Grimacing at the insult to his ex-nation status, Prussia gnashed his teeth and shrugged the hurt away to turn it to anger. He glared across the five inches to the stupid blue eyed youth. "Why the hell do you care anyway? You're always ignoring him and shit and now that I'm involved you suddenly care?"

England was muttering something behind the American but it was being covered up by Alfred's shouts. "It's not like that at all! He's always been my brother!" A fist came up. Prussia's eyes caught on to it and stared but it never moved to actually attack.

_Heh. Coward. You want to hit me and you can't. What are you scared of? I'm just a nobody ex-nation after all._

He rolled his eyes and put as much sarcasm into his voice as he could, keeping himself open for a hit on purpose. He wanted to fight, too, but he wanted to make the brash youth attack first. His head was killing him and he didn't really feel like swinging first right now.

"Oh sure. We'll all believe that."

America yelled and moved. "_Give me back my brother!_"

The fist came. The punch connected with Prussia's face. He grinned and maneuvered his hands to trap America's arms before letting his head snap back and slam into the brat's face. "Give me back my nation," he growled, heated in the moment.

_Why on earth did you say that?_

_I don't know...Really, I don't know..._

Letting go of his grip on the American, he watched as Alfred stumbled back, a hand reaching up to wipe blood from his nose. "Is that what this is about? Did you hand him over to those people for that?"

_See, now he has fuel to his fire. Now he has reason. Why did you even say such a thing?_

_Gott...I can't think..._

It was true. He was seeing red in anger. His head was swimming in pain from the hangover and the attack to his face, not that he would admit as much out loud. His body felt incredibly weak and achy, like he had a fever holding him down except at the same time he didn't feel so sick.

_Ugh. I hate hangovers._

_You shouldn't have gotten drunk, then._

_...Shut up..._

"Hell no!" He snapped back at America's question, wiping a string of blood from his lip. "I wouldn't do something like that!"

This time he would attack. This time he raised his own fist, punching toward Alfred's fucking stupid asshole cocky motherfucking face. It missed. _He_ missed. He saw the counter-attack coming and was moving – too slowly – to dodge it, but then America was no longer in front of him and was instead floating in the air out of reach.

And England was huffing out his own shouts. "Stop acting like children, both of you!" Prussia looked toward the green-eyed nation and saw him standing just outside the door, a spellbook in hand and his arm out, pointed toward the floating America. Fucking magic. "All this nonsensical fighting is not going to bring Cana – Matthew back!"

With a growl, Prussia turned to the side and kicked over a small entryway table, needing something to lose his frustration on, even if it was Matthew's furniture. Not only had he lost Birdie but now his brother, the stupid Italian, the annoying brat, and the Englishman were all here as well. His brother he wanted. The other three – no.

"What's going on here?"

Speaking of his brother...

Spinning around, he turned a glare to West. "Did you call them?" When his brother nodded, he threw his hands up in the air and put his sarcastic tone back on. "Great! What a fantastic idea! I'm sure they'll be _so_ much help!"

From behind his brother came the mumbling and stuttering useless Italian. "W-Well...I mean...We need all the help we can get and h-he is kind of his _fratello_ so..."

Before he could turn on the stupid brunette, England's calm voice froze him. "Listen. The more people, the more ground we can cover. So, like it or not, we are going to need to work together. For Matthew's own good."

_For Matthew's own good._

The words echoed in his pounding head and he crossed his arms and grumbled under his breath before spinning around to face the Englishman. "Does this mean you have a plan?"

England sighed and dropped his arm, letting America simply fall to the ground. "Of course I have a plan. We need to go inside so we can set this up."

"You could have set me down nicely, you know," America grumbled as he stood up, brushing at his probably bruised ass.

"Keh," Prussia scoffed. "Not like you deserve it," he added before sticking his tongue out, getting a raised middle finger in return, which was...some kind of American insult, he was sure.

Before he could lash out and attack the brat again, something grabbed him from behind, a hand latching onto the hood of his jacket. As he felt himself getting tugged backwards, he heard West's voice. "Come on. Let's sit down in the living room."

With a grumble, Prussia gave in and let his brother pull him back into the other room. Sometimes he had to wonder where the idea of respect-your-older-brother had gone. Still, West was the calm and practical one, the one who could be rational even under the most bullshit of situations. Usually.

"I'm fine, West," he mumbled, getting his brother to drop the grip on his hood.

Standing still, clenching his hands in his jacket pockets, he turned around and kept his gaze down and away from the worried blue he knew would be watching him. _Gott_, he could feel the concern from here and it pissed him off. Thankfully, West understood and didn't say anything. Well...

Except a grunted, "Don't start anymore fights."

He wanted to growl and snap that he _hadn't_ started anything at all yet. Instead he shrugged and made his way to the couch, ignoring the feeling of multiple eyes staring at his back as he made his way to his seat. He plopped down into the sofa cushions, leaning slightly against the arm, trying to push away the painful headache still bothering him, closing his eyes and keeping his head down in an effort to make it go away.

West sat down next to him – and the Italian next to _him_. He didn't have to look over to know that the Italian was practically sprawled across his brother. Even among company, they still had to be lovey-dovey we're-a-perfect-happy-couple. _Gott_, it still pissed him off.

"Ve~ what are we going to do?"

England answered, moving around the sofa to sit in the one armchair. That left America to stand. Good. "Well, first we need a starting point and we'll need to search all of Canada."

Prussia raised his head – too quickly – and groaned, reaching a hand up to claw into his hair again, cursing the fucking hangover headache from hell. Still, he had to make his point. "Searching all of Canada could take years! Not to mention, it's going to get colder soon," he muttered with a shiver.

Standing in front of them all, America growled. "Well I don't see you coming up with a better idea."

Prussia responded to him with another tongue sticking out of his mouth, too weak to think of much worse right now. This time, America just responded in kind.

Beside him, West sighed but didn't mention the childish act. "We should start where he was last seen, and then split up when we come up with different possibilities on where he could have been taken."

England sighed again. "That seems like our best course of action."

_This isn't going to work well. We need something that will give quick results. Quick results, gott verdamt!_

"U-Um -" Oh great, the Italian had something to say. "If I could make a suggestion?" Without waiting for a proper response, Italy continued. "America? Prussia?" Hearing his name, Gilbert glanced over to the Italian, watching as those fingers trembled and the first fingers pressed against each other as he mumbled. "You two have been around Canada the most. Have either of you used your country names in front of a mortal?"

_Oh...shit..._

He could feel his face lose all of its color. Well, whatever color it possibly had. The time in the shop. He'd yelled it as plain as day, and then he'd laughed about the warning later. It was his fault. _Gott_, it was _his fault_!

He could hear America speaking. "Nope I've never..." There was a pause. He could feel eyes on him and he lowered his gaze to the floor again, feeling his fingers tremble as they continued to claw into his white hair. "What's wrong with you?"

Shaking his head, he felt his hand move down to his mouth, shakily, covering it and fighting a new feeling of warm tears. _Shit. My fault...It's my fault...Oh Gott, I can't believe..._

As if from a distance, he heard England's calm voice, "America can you go get me some water, please?"

And then America's: "Huh? Sure, Iggy."

There was no comment from England at the usage of the nickname, or maybe Prussia was just too focused on the floor. His hands had moved to his eyes, trying to push the tears back and away. _Verdamt_ Prussians did not cry – not even when it was their fault. He bit his lip and then let it go and tried to get a breath of air instead.

_My fault..._

_Stop putting yourself down and work with them. Get a hold of yourself!_

Yes, yes, he had to talk, had to explain to them what had happened. They couldn't help if he didn't tell them. Hell, he'd been back to that shop; he'd talked to the guy; he'd been up in his face demanding to know...He'd also been drunk as fuck...

Thankfully, America wasn't in the room to hear his admission. He'd have to remember to thank England one day. America would _so_ kill him if he knew. "I did it," he managed to choke out. "I called him Canada when we were in a store. I didn't take it seriously and proceeded to laugh about it...and promise him protection and and and..._Oh Gott – it's my fault..._" He whimpered and immediately moved a hand down to cover his mouth as if he could retract the weak noise.

_I'm losing it. I'm losing it in front of them. Oh, Gott, I can't keep it back..._

Suddenly, there was a hand on his shoulder, a light hand and a familiar bouncy voice in his ear. "I-It's all right." Italy. "Someone once told me that sometimes things happen and it's not really anybody's fault."

"Right." England. "This way, we know where we can start."

West clearing his throat. "So can you find your way back to that store?"

_All of them..._

_You got this. Get a hold of yourself and stand up and face the situation head on like you always do!_

Thanking the voice in his head, Prussia gave a little nod and looked up, rubbing his eyes clear and facing the three of them like there hadn't been a weak moment at all. "Yeah. Of course I can. Let's go!" He jumped to his feet...and immediately crumpled back down at the rush of pain to his head. "Ohhh shit, that's never happened before."

"What's never happened before?" Came Italy's confused and curious question.

England didn't even seem to notice, standing up himself and going straight to business. "Right. We'll go there, wait until that same store worker shows up, and I'll put a truth spell on him."

Turning a glare to the Italian, Prussia felt himself barely take in England's plan, instead opting to answer the annoying brunette in front of him. "Hangovers," he groaned. "I'm too awesome for hangovers."

Beside him, West adjusted his tie and stood up before giving a little bit of advice. "Stand up slowly, _bruder_. And get some water; it should help."

As if on cue, America sprang into the room, just as everyone seemed to be getting ready to leave. "Uh – I brought your water, Iggy."

With a sigh, England nodded. "Great timing. Gilbert needs it. Everyone, remember and get used to saying our human names. We have them for a reason."

"Aw, poor Gil," Italy murmured.

Which made Prussia wince as he followed his brother's advice and stood up slowly. While everyone else made their way outside, he walked over to where America was glaring at him, still holding the water. "If Iggy wouldn't be mad at me, I'd dump this over your head."

Prussia grunted in response, thinking how water over his head probably wouldn't be all that bad right now, but America actually shoved the glass of water into his hand before rushing off to join the others. Standing alone in the room, Prussia groaned and downed the water, wishing it could be an instant heal for the pain. Of course, that was too much to wish for. Even if the others were waiting for him, he took his time and went to the kitchen to at least set the glass in the sink.

It was there that a certain yellow bird came fluttering into his hair. He glanced up and poked at Gilbird, scowling when he realized it had been a while since he'd last seen his buddy. "Where the hell have you been?"

Gilbird tweeted back, _'Looking for him...like you told me to...'_

"Oh," he mumbled, sighing. "Find anything?" He couldn't even remember the last time he'd seen the yellow chick. Sometime yesterday but when? And when had he told the bird to search for Canada? _Must have been drunk..._

_'Nope; it's getting cold.'_

Dropping his hands back to his jacket pockets, Prussia let his head hang as he glared at the floor and slowly made his way to the front door where everyone was waiting. "Figures," he muttered.

Once outside, England tossed a worried glance his way, making him cringe and turn away. "All right, Gilbert, show us where this store is and remember – use human names only." _Yeah, I fucking figured that out, jack ass. _"This goes for all of you."

Wincing at the sunlight, he kept his eyes on the ground and pulled the hood of his jacket over his head, covering Gilbird in the warmth of the jacket as well, which earned him a short chirp of approval. Although he didn't have his usual hat and sunglasses to protect his albinism from the sunlight, he did have most every part of his body covered now and if he kept his head down, the large hood would possibly provide protection, too. It was both easy and hard to keep his gaze down. He never was one to walk around without his head held high, but right now he didn't feel much like facing their pitying eyes. He _hated _pity, after all.

As he started to walk, he could hear the boisterous Italian grinning even through his words, "Si! I'll call Germany Luddy then~"

And then there was America: "So does that mean I can call you Iggy and you won't get mad?"

He heard hear England exclaim and could imagine the flush on the man's face. "You will not! That name is preposterous! Besides, that name might cause some suspicion."

"Aw, really? But I love that nickname."

Rolling his eyes, Prussia was about to snap something over his shoulder at the egotistical brat, but he shut his mouth and decided against it. Maybe it would be better for all of them if he just started to tease England instead of trying to fight with Canada's brother. "He actually loves that nickname," he muttered, glancing behind to see Arthur's indignant glare. "But he's probably right about not using it."

England's denial was loud and yes, his voice _did_ just crack there. "You stay out of this! I do _not_ like that nickname!"

Italy: "But I thought you did. That's why you're blushing."

_Innocent sounding or was that Italy teasing as well?_

America: "Ah hah! I knew it!"

_Egotistical brat laughing because he was right..._

Prussia: "He was much more open about it when he was a pirate. Kesese~"

_Covering up, putting the mask on, cracking jokes – this is way too easy for you._

England: "That is not true! Don't listen to what they say!"

_Always denying his soft side and the less-than-gentlemanly love of pet names. _

Growing tired of just listening to them, Prussia spun around and put on his best smirk, letting his eyes flash with an almost perverted gleam as he managed to catch England's eyes, as he managed to stop right in front of the green-eyed island nation. "I remember you being quite different." He let the words roll off his tongue easily enough, though they seemed dead and distant, like a song from the past. "War games and all the good old alliance agreements before things changed."

There was an old but familiar gleam in Arthur's eyes at the memory. Something passed between them. Something only ex-lovers could share. Whether they wanted to or not, the past was there, the memories were there. The good, the bad, the harsh breakup...

It seemed like an eternity with neither of them breathing and the entire world around them going still as red eyes stared into green. The other nations here around them now were too young to even understand what it had been like, what the ecstasy of such quick relationships could hold. Of the five of them, Prussia and England were the oldest here, old enough to remember the "good old days." Seven years. It was a long stretch of time – for those days. Now it seemed like nothing.

Except they had grown out of it, like human teenagers escaping a fad. And here they stood today. Both had raised children that now surpassed them. Both had been happy to see it happen – and heartbroken to be pushed aside so easily at the same time.

As if in slow motion, Iggy raised an eyebrow. "You..." he all but whispered. "You shut up!"

And things immediately popped back into real time. Prussia almost felt light-headed as sound and feeling returned to his body, grimacing at the pounding in his head. He almost fell over as the memories rushed in and rushed away just as quickly. He met the glaring green emeralds of someone who _knew_ him and he welcomed the glare much easier than he would have welcomed the pity.

America appeared beside the Englishman and nearly spat at the albino. "Hey. Shut up and take us to wherever-the-hell you're taking us."

With a scoff, he turned around and waved his arm off to the side. "Relax. It's right here."

He heard the American's disbelief. "A clothes store? Why are we stopping here?"

_Stupid fucking egotistical brat..._

"Long story short," Arthur was saying, explaining the situation to his dumbass of a boyfriend. "We have reason to believe that this is where the people who kidnapped Matthew are."

"Oh really?" He heard Alfred's exclamation before he saw the nation rushing forward.

Biting back a curse, Prussia reached out and grabbed the idiot's jacket to keep him from running ahead and ruining their chance. "Slow down." Besides... "I tried the straight-forward approach yesterday." _Even if I was drunk..._ "It won't work." He glanced away and huddled further in his hoodie. "Let the illustrious spy side of Arthur take care of the talking."

From behind him, the little Italian walked forward and popped his head forward. "Ve ~ I think only a few of us should go in. If we all go in and start asking questions, it could get a little suspicious. Like Pru -" Prussia raised his eyes to stare at the Italian, but Feliciano had already caught himself mid name. "I mean, Gilbert and Arthur should go in, and the rest of us can stay out here and stay on look out."

Glancing around now that his eyes were up, Prussia noticed another odd fact of the day. People were missing. Yeah, the town was supposed to be small, but it was...empty...No wonder it was so quiet.

_What's going on?_

He felt his back tense up, feeling a shiver run up his spine as the hairs on his neck stood on end.

_I don't like this..._

Apparently he was the only one to notice the oddity because England was nodding at Italy's suggestion and going right along with it. "Good idea. Gil, you're with me. Tell me if you see the same store worker there."

With a grimace, he gave a nod, squinting his eyes against the sunlight. _Fucking...albinism...sometimes it pisses me off..._ "Right behind ya," he mumbled, feeling the cover up of the past few minutes slowly disappearing, especially at the idea of something being so...off...

He turned to his brother and tried to communicate his warning but West was too busy talking to the bouncy Italian to even notice Gilbert. Prussia clenched his teeth. There was a reason the Italian pissed him off. And it wasn't just jealousy. West was too busy trying to calm Feliciano and stay strong for him to even _notice_ that something was wrong.

"Why does it have to be those two?" America complained with a pout, arms crossing.

Prussia dropped his grip on the bomber jacket and opened his mouth to spout something off to the brat, but England beat him to it. "Because Gilbert is the only one who knows who heard him, and I'm the only one who can cast the truth spell."

He tensed up again, moving his eyes up to the blue of the American, waiting for things to click and for Alfred to realize what had happened. The clues were there. He _should_ pick it up, right? No one had come out and told him that it was Prussia's fault, but -

"I still don't like it," was America's only response.

Prussia blinked. _Really?_

"Fine," came England's huff, which was so different from the island nation he remembered. _You gave in so easily..._ And then he saw the look in those green eyes, the endearing look that reminded him of the gleam he saw so often when West was talking to Feliciano. _Oh. Gott, I'm gonna be sick with all this lovey-dovey shit in the air... _"But you have to promise to be quiet and keep your distance from us in the store."

America only made the lovesick feeling worse when he ran up and gripped England in a tight hug. "All right!" He let go quick enough but the blush was there on England's face and the happy laughter was there on America's and... "No problem."

Prussia groaned and pretended to gag. "You two are going to make me hurl."

"You shut up!" came England's retort as he huffed, crossed his arms, and turned away from all of them, facing the store. "Let's just go inside and pray for the best."

Rolling his eyes, Prussia followed the two of them into the shop. America ran off immediately, as if the hat section actually interested him – and maybe it wouldn't have been so obviously fake if he didn't keep looking over his shoulder at Prussia and England standing next to each other. Meanwhile, Prussia's gaze went to the store clerk and he nodded his head.

"Same guy," he whispered to the green-eyed nation beside him.

Arthur nodded. "Right. Go to the back corner of the store and ask for help on something. While he's 'helping' you out, I'll put the spell on him."

He nearly chuckled. Finally someone was giving him a job that fit his talents. Play the distraction card? Easy...

...Especially when there was _no one else_ in the store.

As he walked to the back corner where he'd gone with Canada yesterday to pick out the hoodie he was currently wearing, Prussia let his eyes flick over the quiet and empty store. Even the other day there'd actually been people. Something was _definitely_ wrong. He was feeling more uneasy with every passing second but he wasn't the type to back away from a plan already in progress.

So he started shuffling through the familiar jackets before growling and shouting over his shoulder. "Hey! Store owner person! Help here?"

The slightly overweight man with the balding head came over easily enough. He was even smiling. Prussia had to work to keep the grin on his face, had to work to keep his legs from bolting. _This feels so wrong. This feels so off. I can't place it. I can't figure it out, but I know something is being setup here..._

"What is it, eh?"

Eyes bouncing in his eye sockets, Prussia found that he could only stare at the man and his green and red striped sweater. Was that some crappy Christmas sweater? Wasn't he a little early? And...a name tag with the letters "BOB" in large print. His name was Bob. Of all the typical -

"Ah yeah," he said, fighting a new urge not to punch the guy's lights out. _This is the one who stole Canada from you. This is one who messed everything up. This is the guy who took your Birdie. What are you doing about it? Are you really going to just stand there? _

Yes, yes he was. Plan. He had to focus. He had to play the distraction card. England was already behind the man, already with his spellbook out, already casting something.

He licked his lips and forced the stupid question out as he tugged on whatever jacket was currently in his hand. "Can you help me find a match for this jacket?" He was pulling on his own jacket. He was trying hard not to glare.

Wait -

He narrowed his eyes. Was Bob -

"Gilbert, knock him out!"

At England's cry, he reacted instantly. His hand snapped out and he slammed it into the store worker's neck, smacking into the pressure point and knocking the guy out quickly and effortlessly. Still...even as the man crumpled to the floor...Prussia felt his body refuse to relax. _Bob_, as the name tag had identified him, had been _smirking_ like he was _expecting_ this.

_Why...?_

"Oh man, bro...now what?" America's voice broke Gilbert from his thoughts and he looked up to realize that the three of them were currently standing over the still body of a Canadian store clerk.

Well then... America had a good question...

Thankfully, England was quick and ready with a response. Good old Arthur. "_Now_, we drag this idiot back to Matthew's house, and we let Gilbert and Ludwig work their own bit of magic." It took a moment for the meaning to reach him, but he grinned wildly when it did, especially when Arthur looked to him and said, "It should be easier, thanks to the spell."

"I like this plan," Prussia chuckled, cracking his knuckles without realizing it.

_Force the information out of him. Force him to tell me where they took Birdie. Yes, yes, I like this. A lot._

America had to frown and pout like a brat, of course. "Aw man, bro, but what about my super awesome interrogation techniques?"

Prussia could only flash his eyes and smirk. "They are not as awesome as the German ones."

"He's right," England muttered with a sigh, putting a hand on the American's arm. "Now, we need to hurry. If this group or organization or whatever has any brains, they've trained their men. In other words, we don't have much time until this guy wakes up."

Gilbert nodded and bent down to lift the guy with the full intent of dragging his fucking ass all the way back to Canada's house. Apparently, America had the same idea at the same time. They met eyes for a moment – a single moment in which an agreement was made. With a nod and a sigh, the both of them worked together to lift the slightly overweight man in order to drag him between their arms – a little less conspicuously.

Prussia had to grunt. Not that it mattered. There weren't any people. Anywhere.

Besides Bob.

_It's like they wanted him captured...what are we getting into...?_

_Do I care? If it leads me to Matthew, do I really care what trouble I get in along the way?_

~!~

_A/N: And that's an almost 6,000-word chapter for you guys. And so quickly after the last one, too! I must love you or something! Oh, I absolutely -love- Prussia's viewpoint in this chapter. He's so jealous of the happy couples and he's so willing to do anything to get Mattie back. I think – just maybe – he's beginning to realize that he cares? ;)_

_Reviewer Replies:_

_IAmACat: No, no you're not a bad person for liking drama. Trust me. I'm the evil-author over here who loves torturing her favorite characters, all in the very name of drama! _

_Person: Exactly. Ah ~ Poor Canada; I'm so very evil and will keep you all in suspense to find out what's happening to him D: Thanks for the review, mate :D_

_Guest: I had to comment on your review even though I said I would only comment on Guest accounts with names...but the Thor reference totally made my day. XD Yes, smash more mugs and I will bring more chapters. Lol ~_

_~~Thanks again for all reviews/favorites/alerts; I totally appreciate them all, like totally!~~_

_~Reda_


	14. Chapter 14

**Author Notes****:**

-Hum hum hum

-I tend to do actual torture and gore scenes off-screen so there's no need for warnings (and so I don't have to fail!write anything). Besides, imagination is much better when it comes to things like that, or so I've found.

-I was wondering the WHOLE TIME I was writing this if I would be able to get to the part with Canada or not. THAT is how close we are, okay?

-This is a short chapter and results in more cliifhanger goodness. Please don't hate me for it. D:

~!~

One Month

Chapter 14

~!~

Arthur Kirkland took another long sip of his mid-afternoon tea, looking around the table at the others with him as the cup hit his lips. The air was decidedly tense, as if someone could easily pop it and it would deflate like a balloon. Quiet. Hushed. He was doing his best to remain calm and keep the business-like face.

Feliciano Vargas was sitting in his chair, the cup of tea that had been poured for him remaining untouched. His small hands were clenched in the fabric of his pants as they sat in his lap. The head was down. The hair curl was most definitely drooping. It was too obvious to say that Italy was doing his best to not cry.

Meanwhile, Alfred F. Jones was having no such problems. "This is so not hero worthy," America said as he shifted in his chair, obviously fighting an urge to jump up and rush to the basement where the Germans had taken the store clerk.

With a sigh, Arthur set his teacup down before facing the anxious youth. "Look, I know you, and I know you can't handle seeing exactly what the Germans do."

America pouted. "Well thanks for the vote of confidence." While Arthur sighed at the youth's childish complaint, Alfred actually decided to try tasting the tea that had been poured for him. It wasn't what he'd expected, or maybe he should have known better all along. "Yuck!" Al complained, making a face. "How do you even like this stuff?"

Before England could give the boy a good comeback, a loud scream tore through the otherwise empty air, coming from the basement. It effectively shut them all up. It also made Italy wince and cringe in his seat.

_Bloody hell, I don't even want to imagine -_

"What the hell man?" America. "What are they _doing_ in there?" He was startled and curious.

_Great._

While he tried to think of a good way to satisfy Alfred's curiosity without explaining too much, Italy shook his head and murmured, "Arthur's right...You don't...You don't want to know..."

England frowned over at the Italian. Poor lad was shaken up pretty badly.

And Alfred had _no_ idea. "Is it really that much worse than what my people have done?"

With a frown, Arthur brought the cup up to his lips again, trying to ignore the question. But Italy looked up and stared at the blue-eyed youth. "You have _no_ idea."

When the little Italian trembled and turned his gaze back down to his lap, England frowned some more, eyes watching the affronted American. "Hrm. Fine. I know when you guys want to drop a subject. Sheesh."

_Thank you, America. Even you have brains when you need to -_

"Blech! Honestly, why am I drinking this stuff?"

He could feel his eyebrows twitching as he set his own cup down and huffed. "Look, if you really hate acting like a gentleman _that much_, then you can make some of your coffee."

"But I _can't_," came Alfred's reply, his tongue sticking out like a playful child. "Canada doesn't keep coffee."

This time, before Arthur could respond, a door could be heard opening from another area of the house. Shortly thereafter, Germany marched in to the kitchen. With all eyes on him, Ludwig moved to the sink, poured himself a glass of water, took a drink and poured another. The suit the man had worn seemed undamaged in all respects, but the black gloves the German had slipped on were covered in blood stains.

Arthur winced at the sight and returned to watching the other two. Such things were better left to the quiet air. Apparently, even Germany agreed because he didn't say a single word as he removed his gloves and sat down in a chair next to Italy, who immediately climbed into the German's lap and buried his face in the stronger man's shoulder.

"I'm so scared, Germany..." Italy whispered.

England turned his head and refused to look at the couple. He felt sorry for the little Italian and he felt awkward seeing such close public displays of affection.

Apparently, America had no idea how to read the mood. "So...what...?"

Interrupting the American, a door slammed from the back of the house and England winced, knowing exactly who was coming up to the kitchen. As expected, Prussia showed up in the doorway, eyes wide and wild, face and clothes splattered in blood that was not his own. At least he'd had the decency to remove his jacket – which was now sitting across an empty chair at the kitchen table – but the albino didn't seem the least bit concerned that his clothes and hands were covered in the lifeblood of another man.

"I want to kill all of them," came the Prussian's statement, a growl full of so much hatred it made Arthur blink up at him.

The entrance had finally stilled America, like the child was staring at the Prussian's appearance and couldn't really believe what he was seeing. Shaking away the images himself, Arthur nodded and stood up to face the red-eyed ex-nation. "Relax and tell us what you found out."

_The sooner we get this over with, the better, for all of us..._

Prussia stared back at him for a moment before he seemed to take a breath and started walking around the room, waving his arms animatedly as he explained things. "Well, apparently, they're a part of some global movement intent on destroying the need for nations."

Arthur felt a chill run up his spine. _So, the rumors are true. The newscasters aren't just spouting stories._

"And this is just the first stages of a non-politically backed...because you know, destroying _my_ country was politically acceptable -"

With a flash in his eyes, Arthur turned his own pent up frustration on the ex-nation. "That's the past. Keep it on the here and now."

Prussia glared back at him but nothing else was said on the subject, the tense air still sitting on the cusp of popping any second. Turning away from him, the albino continued, "Well, now they're moving to attack the nation representatives themselves. They know we – you guys – exist. And they want to separate us – you – long enough so that the nations we – you – represent can crumble from the inside."

Even from his position on the opposite side of the room, Arthur could see the albino twitch at every correction he made. He frowned, wondering what it must feel like to be an ex-nation trying to explain and deal with a problem for nations. Especially when he still liked to refer to himself as the long-dead nation he had once represented.

Prussia's teeth clenched as he turned back to face them all. "All in the fucking name of global world peace." Bloody hands slammed on the wooden table, leaving red hand prints. The albino leaned forward, meeting all of their eyes individually as he emphasized his next words. "It's not an attack on a nation or a group – it's an attack on _us." _A wince spread across the red eyes and the man leaned back and glanced away as he all but whispered, "I mean – you."

England had to put a hand to his head and take a deep, calming breath. The very idea of being known, of being specifically targeted...It was much different from the idea that his nation was under attack. This was a movement bent on destroying _him_ because of what he represented – not the country, not his people, but _him_ specifically. _All of them_.

"So, that's their game," he whispered into the silence. "Well, we have to stop them." If no one else was going to stand up and take charge, then dash it all – he would! He met the red eyes of the albino. "Did you learn where they are keeping Canada?"

_First thing first. Rescue the boy._

Prussia turned his gaze away from England and looked toward Germany instead, as if waiting for his brother to explain things, as if he didn't think he could say it without running out and bolting right there. Arthur turned his expectant gaze to the blue-eyed, blond-haired German, and after a while Ludwig sighed and gave in to the stares. "We have a possibility." He paused, as if trying to emphasize the point that it was only _possible_. "There's a warehouse in the countryside that acts as a way point of sorts. Canada may or may not be there, but it's the next place to go for clues, if anything."

England nodded, "Right. So that is our next destination. How far is it from here?"

This time, Prussia did answer, moving to the sink to wash himself of the blood coating his hands. "A few miles north. Not sure exactly how many. Guy wouldn't or couldn't specify for whatever reason. I suggest driving for as far as the road lets us..."

Before England could comment, Germany coughed, "Yes, well, someone has to stay here and watch the...prisoner."

At the very idea, America jumped to his feet and finally added his normally loud voice to the conversation. "Not me, dude. I'm the hero; I gotta go rescue my bro."

_Yes, yes, we know._

England sighed, "Obviously America and Prussia are both going." He made a pointed glance to each of them in turn. "I'll be going with you two to make sure you wankers don't mess anything up, and as for Germany, he should -"

"I'll only stay if Germany is with me."

England stuttered at Italy's interruption, moving his gaze over to the little Italian currently curled up in the stoic German's lap. He was trembling. There were tears on his face. Yes, he was shaken up. The stress and seriousness of the situation was really starting to get to the poor lad.

"We stay here," said Germany. Ludwig met his eyes and England found himself nodding even as the German continued speaking. "Good luck." The blue eyes turned to the Prussian, who was standing off in the shadows somewhat separated from the rest of them. "Keep me posted."

He could hear the albino mutter something about being stuck with America and he felt his body tense up in frustration before he could control himself. Spinning, he turned a glare on the ex-nation. "I know you two don't like each other, but can you at least get over it for Matthew's sake?"

The albino refused to meet his eyes. "I know we have to work together. Doesn't mean I have to like it."

America's voice came from beside him. "My sentiments exactly."

_Oh, look, they agree on something. Agree to disagree?_

With a roll of his eyes, Arthur moved away from the table, expecting the two wankers to follow him. "Let's just get going."

Prussia seemed to spring from the shadows, throwing the blue and yellow hoodie on and racing out the door. "Well come on then!" he called. "I would walk, but you guys have vehicle transportation."

Before Arthur could actually walk outside on his own, America grabbed his arm and started dragging him outside after the Prussian. All the while shouting to the air. "All right! Don't worry, Mattie, the hero is on the way!"

There was a very quiet "Good luck" from the Italian but England felt like he was the only one to hear – the other two were too focused on rushing to this warehouse as fast as possible.

_Why do I have a bad feeling about this?_

~!~

_Some time later..._

~!~

Still sitting in Germany's lap, Feliciano curled close and listened to the heartbeat of his German lover. They hadn't moved at all since the other three had left the building. His teacup still sat on the table, cold and untouched. He could feel the sweat under his own clothes, knowing he was worried about a million different things now.

He was terrified at the idea of these nation-nappers. At the idea of a group of humans who not only knew about their existence, but wanted them _dead_. He shuddered again at the thought and clung to Germany's shirt. He had to keep reminding himself: Ludwig would protect him. Ludwig was much better than Gilbert at protecting people, much better at staying focused and staying close and staying serious.

But...

Germany _was_ being a bit _too_ serious right now. Ludwig hadn't said a word since the other three had left. He still sat there, stiff and tense even with Italy trying to cling closely.

Growing worried, Italy sniffed and looked up at his German, sad to see that the blue eyes were focused on a distant spot on the wall, as if he was thinking hard and not even paying attention to where he was at the moment. With a frown, Italy reached up and cupped the hard face in his hands, forcing the blue eyes to focus, forcing the eyes to look at him.

"Germany, say something. Please?"

Ludwig looked at him, met his eyes, and then arms encircled him as lips leaned down to press against his own. Italy's eyes widened in shock but he kept himself from tensing up from surprise. Germany was stressed. He needed this. He needed to relax.

Closing his eyes, Italy let his German lover do what he needed to. The kiss was long, deep, and needy. Raw emotion and raw sensual pleasure as everything unwound and the world around them disappeared into the distance for a few moments. Letting feeling take over, Feliciano reached up and wrapped his arms around Ludwig's neck; he opened his mouth more to allow for better access, to allow Ludwig to take charge of something when everything around them was beginning to fall to chaos.

As the raw need calmed, Germany pulled back and Italy gasped and panted for breath, opening eyes partly to look up with concern into the sparkling blue of his lover. And then Ludwig leaned his head down on Italy's shoulder and panted out the cause for his worry. "_Mein bruder_...I feel like...He's missing something. That was too easy."

Blinking in surprise at Ludwig's statement and action, it took Feliciano a moment to respond. After the initial pause, he reached up and started threading his fingers through the blond hair, messing up the neat hairdo on purpose, offering his own form of comfort even as he spoke. "What was too easy, Germany?"

Ludwig gave him a grunt. "That interrogation. He spilled so much information so quickly and _bruder_ just drank it all up." There was a pause, possibly a grimace. "I really hope this wasn't a trap."

Feeling worried and confused, Italy froze. His hand stopped stroking Germany's head and he frowned. Then he remembered a certain little detail about the interrogation, and he put his smile back on, breathing normally again, even if a part of him was worried about Germany's reasoning. "I'm sure it wasn't. After all, England put that spell on him, right? He couldn't have been lying."

"Yes, but there are several ways to lie. One of which is by not telling the whole truth," Ludwig whispered, lifting his head, eyes looking out the small windows located above the kitchen sink. It was getting dark outside and probably colder, too. "I hope I'm just worried, but something still feels..._off_."

Chewing on his bottom lip, Italy continued to stare up at Ludwig's eyes, even if their gazes weren't connected. "Do you want to call them, or just sit back and see what happens?" He pouted and brought a hand up to Germany's cheek to force him to look at him. "Ve ~ I'm sure it's just your imagination, though."

As Italy was about to lean up and kiss Germany again, the phone decided to ring, negating the need to call and check up on the rescue trio. Before Feliciano could say anything, Ludwig lunged for the cell phone and answered it quickly without even checking to see which number was calling. "_Bruder_, is everything -"

Italy could hear England's voice – panicked, a little higher pitched than normal – as it interrupted the German. "America! Leave him! Germany, we have an emergency! Prussia just ran in after them and -_shit- _it was a trap!"

Country names were flying everywhere, even though England had been the one to warn against using them. Yeah. Something was definitely wrong. What had he said? Something about Prussia running in...? A trap?

Ludwig sat up quickly, back straight, eyes narrowed and hard, putting on his must-be-serious-under-pressure face. "What? Oh _gott_ – get out of there! We'll regroup and – is Gil really out of reach?"

"Yes! He's long gone now! _Bloody hell_ – Germany, we need to -"

Even from his place in Germany's lap, he could hear the dial tone buzz. Arthur had hung up or had been forced away from the phone. Italy could feel his heart beat starting to pound in his chest. What were they going to do? What was Germany going to do?

With a curse, Ludwig put the phone down. His arm was shaking. His breath was a little uneven. Italy frowned. "They're in trouble," Germany choked out. "But we need someone here." A groan. "I don't know what to do."

_You don't know?_

Chewing on his lip some more, he looked beyond Germany, imagining the stranger in the basement. There shouldn't be any reason to fear someone tied up and trapped, right? He would be fine. He could let Germany go. He had to. Canada and now Prussia...and maybe the other two...

Yeah, he had to be strong.

"You go," he mumbled, facing his blue-eyed blond-haired German lover. "I'll be fine here."

His response was a blink and a wide-eyed stare. "Are you sure?"

He nodded slowly and forced a smile. "Si. There's not much he can really do after what you two did to him, right?"

"That is true," Germany said with a grimace and then a sigh.

Keeping his strength and holding close to it, Italy crawled out of Ludwig's lap and stood up, reaching hands to his German lover to pull him up as well. Clasping hands, he titled his head and forced a smile. He had to be strong. There was nothing to be afraid of. One guy? Trapped in a basement? There was no reason to be so scared. It wasn't like the other members of the movement knew where Canada's house was – or knew where they were, or even knew they were here...right?

He didn't realize he had gone into a daze until Germany was pulling back from kissing his cheek. "I'll be right back. Don't open your door for anyone but us and don't go in that room. This shouldn't take long."

As Ludwig dropped his hands and started to walk away, Italy nodded. _Yeah. I can do this. I have to do this. It's not that hard! _"Si," he muttered. "I'll call Romano if I get scared."

_Go get them, Germany. _

_...But come back soon, okay?_

~!~

_A/N: It's a shorter chapter. Sorry! Ah, I'm trying to keep things in a range of 5k words now, because those seem really nice, but certain scenes just don't allow for it work out so wonderfully. It would either be insanely long or ...short. Ah. Well, next scene has Canada. We really are -that- close. _

_Reviewer Replies: (Yay~ First time for me to hit 100 reviews~ I'm so happy!)(Oh and if I didn't respond to you via website, yet, I apologize; sometimes I'll be at work when I read the review and I don't have a chance to respond...and then I forget lol; just know that I appreciate every one :)_

_IAmACat: Yes, yes, you did make my ringtone go off in the middle of the night – while I was writing some of this as a matter of fact. And, yes, I did jump. Lol ~ Aw, but past-PrUK is...so...interesting? I don't even know why I like it; probably because they're my top two favorite characters and I love to put the both of them with just about anyone. XD But I've always seen their relationship as awkward-country-alliance-kinda-sorta-ish-love-but-not-really (hyphens explain everything!) because during the 7-years war it was basically them against a whole lot of others xD Oh, Bob may be creepy but he isn't even the worst evilhuman!OC I've come up with...Just wait til the next chapter ._

_~~Thank you for all alerts/favorites/reviews; I love each and every one~~_

_~Reda_


	15. Chapter 15

**Author Notes****:**

-All right! I'm a terrible person because now we're at one of my favorite parts. Why am I a terrible person? You'll see...

-Prussia point of view again. I want to do Canada point of view. Really, I do, but there's too much inner conflict in Gilbert to stay away from him at this point in the story.

-And we get America point of view! Whoo! First time for that in this fic, I think.

-Also, am I getting better at description? I'm actually _trying_ to do my best now instead of just spitting out chapters at top capacity. (I have this weird take on fanfiction; I use it to relax from original stories and don't always try near as hard on small details and such but holy crap the research I've undertaken because of Hetalia fandom...sheesh...)

-OMG! I was writing about loneliness and the song "Einsamkeit" hit my playlist. Weird. Cool, but so perfectly timed it was like whoa~

~!~

One Month

Chapter 15

~!~

There was the sound of water dripping from somewhere. Somewhere distant but it was there. And there were voices, but they were too distant and far away to hear beyond an occasional raised shout of some nonsense French. Prussia didn't understand French so it was useless to listen in. He could hear the sound of panting breathes, probably his own, though he was apparently gasping for air and couldn't hold it to test the theory. Maybe there was someone else, maybe there wasn't.

Besides hearing, he could feel things, too. He could deduce that he was tied to a chair. It felt like polished wood, hard backed and uncomfortable as hell. _Of course_. His ankles were tied to the chair legs, making it difficult to even stretch and try to keep his legs from falling asleep. They were already starting to tingle with that annoying uncomfortable not-really-pain. His arms were behind him, wrists handcuffed; the metal was starting to dig into his wrists from all the moving and shifting he was doing but he didn't care much.

His heart was pumping fast. For multiple reasons. Waking up in darkness – blindfolded and tied down – he had to fight his brain. He had to fight the memories, the images, the old familiar feeling of being in a similar situation several times when living in Russia's basement.

_You aren't in Russia. There's no way. Calm the fuck down._

_...But what if everything up til now has been a dream? _

He scowled at himself and twisted in his position again, annoyed at himself for being weak, for wanting to break down at the very idea. The voices in the distance rose up again, a distinct Russian accent flowing into the conversation. He tensed the moment he heard it, and he started panting again. Although he was trying his best to calm down, it was turning into a very unsuccessful campaign. He was beginning to sweat. He was remembering words long since buried.

"_I will break you down and then rebuild you to my liking."_

_No! You aren't there anymore! You're free! You're in Canada!_

_...But...what if..._

Twisting his arms again, he pushed out, shaking the handcuffs. His fingers brushed against something hard. He froze and pushed out again. It wasn't a wall. It was too thin, too...it was a chair. Another chair. The back of another chair. Was someone else here with him? Was he really hearing another person breathing in this darkness?

"Wh-Who's there?" He grit his teeth the minute the words escaped his lips. Wincing at the raspy hoarse sound of his voice, he cursed himself for running into such an obvious trap. It should have been obvious. It would have been obvious, if he had not been so focused on rescuing Canada.

_Birdie..._

_Yes, yes, you're there. You aren't in Russia. All that did happen. It's not a dream._

A light whimper entered his ears, followed by a weak and timid voice from the other person that was most definitely sharing this darkness with him. "I-I'm Matthew. Who is that? Please tell me I'm n-not going crazy..."

Almost instantly, he relaxed. Matthew, Canada, Birdie...he was here. He was alive. It was all real. It wasn't a dream. This was actually happening. It didn't seem to matter that they were both captured now; he was with the Canadian again. He felt...more complete this way.

_Well that's a rather sappy thought._

_...shut up!_

"Biride," he whispered. "_Gott_..." He let his shoulders slump, let his arms fall how they wanted to, let his head lean back over the top of the chair. "Thank _Gott _you're alive."

"P-Prussia?" came the timid gasp, shaking and trembling slightly as it waved into the air. And then there was an onslaught of words. "I'm so scared! They've been asking me questions and...and...I-I don't know what to do anymore!"

He was crying. Canada was crying. Behind the blindfold, Prussia blinked and then snapped himself out of it. "Hey! No crying! Stay strong and stay awesome!" He felt his voice crack even as he spoke over the Canadian, telling him the same words he'd told himself so many years ago, so many times over, the words that had kept him from breaking down. "I'm here now, so you aren't alone anymore. You have the awesome Prussia here, kesese~" He cut the laugh off quickly. Even to him it sounded incredibly forced and fake.

He could hear Matthew choke on a sob. "I-I'm so glad you're here. I felt so alone, and I was so scared that nobody would notice I was gone."

"Pft. Of course I would notice when you went missing. I searched the whole town!" _He doesn't need to know I was drunk when I searched...we'll just pretend that little detail never happened..._ With a frown, he let his head hang forward, his chin pressing against his chest. "_Gott_, I'm so...sorry." The word sounded strange on his tongue but his brain said he meant it. "I failed you."

"N-No, you didn't fail me. This way I won't go insane, r-right?"

Prussia winced at the very idea of going insane from being captured and alone. Loneliness could drive a person's mind to the brink, after all. It was common knowledge. But he loved being alone! He was always awesome when he was alone.

_Hah, yeah right. That's a mask and a front if there ever was one. You know if he was alone he'd go insane, but now you're here with him._

_Keh. He wouldn't go insane just from loneliness. That is so unawesome._

_So unawesome, huh? Does that make you unawesome?_

_...what...I am not! _

_But you are insane, aren't you? Insane like having people talking back to you in your head. Or even talking with them. You were so lonely, you created a voice in your head to remind you of your favorite person from your past. That's pretty "unawesome" if you ask me, Gilbert._

He tensed and shook his head to try to make the voice disappear, try to ignore the idea that it could be right, that he was talking to some fake voice in his mind and treating it like it were real. There were more important things to think about right now. More important things to deal with. He was here with Matthew. With Birdie. Everything else was for another time.

"Exactly," he heard himself mumbling as if from a distance. "Being alone makes situations like this near impossible to survive. But you've got the Great Prussia here now." His hands were awkwardly reaching out, clawing at air in the hope to find Canada's hands, assuming they were tied up the same way.

"I-I'm so sorry. I fell right into their trap."

Canada was starting to cry again. He could hear the sobs, even if they were muffled. He was still reaching out; he could feel the cuffs shaking as he tried to fight against them; he could feel a distant pain in his wrists. "Ah – don't cry! Must not...show weakness! Nothing is your fault; no one blames you; everyone's worried; West will come and this will just be a nightmare; we'll be free soon."

_Sounds like something you said to yourself once._

_...fucking hell. Shut up and go away._

"W-wait. Germany's coming?" The cries were dying down. Sniffles instead of sobs. _Good_. "He's coming to free us? W-We're going to get o-out of here?"

_Now if he will just reach out and grab my hand..._

Gritting his teeth, he kept struggling to reach Matthew's hands, because _surely_ they were _right there_. "Sure we are," he continued talking, liking the noise. "They know the location; they just need a battle plan."

"When you say 'they'..."

"West, Italy, Arthur, and your most annoying brother..." Fingers brushed against his own and he clasped down as quick as he could, only managing to entwine two fingers with Canada's, but he breathed easier the moment he touched warm flesh. It was a healthy reminder of where he was, of the proof that this was real – that he was with Canada, captured or not. "They all came looking for you," he finished.

"Dieu," he heard. "All of them...looking for me..." the voice he loved cut off with a sob yet again.

"What did I say about crying?" He gripped tighter to the fingers, trying to get more flesh to touch but at the same time unwilling to let go. "First rule of capture: do not show weakness."

"O-Oui," he heard this time. A sniffle. He was trying at least. "I've just...never experienced something like this before. It's so cold and dark."

Even if Canada couldn't see it, the fake grin popped up across Prussia's face. "This is nothing like Russia's place. They won't faze me."

Someone else might have called him unhelpful. What kind of person tried to comfort someone by bringing up a worse situation? Except Prussia was trying to say he'd been through worse and survived – alone – so surely they could get through this together without a problem. The problem was whether or not Canada would understand.

When he heard the light hearted chuckle from behind him, he knew his words had done something right. "Merci...but..." Prussia frowned. _But what?_ "They said if I didn't answer their questions..."

"What?" He leaned back as if he could get Canada to answer by getting closer. "What did they say? What are their threats?"

"All they said was that they were not afraid to use tactics that rivaled Germany's." A gasp. "I've read about that stuff before and I don't want to even think about what they have."

For some reason, Prussia found this idea entirely hilarious. "Kesese~ I dare them to use my own tactics against me."

_It's not just you here, idiot. What about the little Canadian? What does he know of such things?_

Prussia froze at the thought, feeling his mouth go dry. "Oh shit. Birdie, we have to get you out -"

A door was slammed open, getting a yelp from the Canadian behind him. Prussia stored the information in his brain. A door meant they were in an enclosed space. So where was that dripping water coming from? And if something was dripping, why were they not flooded out yet?

"All right, _Canada_, time to answer some questions."

He growled at the tone in the new stranger's voice. He snapped his hands from Canada's in an effort to struggle to break free. He fought against his binds and had no trouble putting venom in his voice. "You leave him alone!"

When he received no answer, Prussia clenched his teeth and continued to twist to try to escape. He could hear someone – or more than one person, even – moving around him, behind him. But it was like they were completely ignoring him. What were they doing? What -

"Prussia! Help me! I don't want this!"

Canada's voice had moved. He was no longer behind him. He was in front and growing distant. Prussia felt himself immediately beginning to panic as his brain fit in the clues. They were taking Birdie away from him! No, not again! He wouldn't let them do it again!

"Let him go!" He shouted, wishing he could see so he could glare, so he could look a little more intimidating. "Take me instead! Argh! Fuck!"

_Please don't take Birdie away again...Not when I'm here..._

"Oh? You'll take his place?" A presence appeared in front of him. If he could kick out, he was sure he would have hit someone. "Hm, but I wonder how much information you'll actually have."

"I have tons of information – not that I'd let you dicks know anything," he snapped, leaning forward as much as possible, twisting his wrists against the metal handcuffs. "But seriously, I am the awesome Prussia. Everyone wants me."

_Hah. That's a ridiculous sentiment. Everyone wants you?_

_Well, Russia seems obsessed enough..._

_That's one. Not everyone._

_Sh-shut up! He doesn't know that!_

"You may be right," came the voice and Prussia lifted his head in hope. "But Canada would be easier to get information out of. Give me a reason why you would have more information than him, and I might consider questioning you first."

"I'm fucking Prussia!" He shouted, gritting his teeth, trying to think of something that made him relevant. What were these guys even looking for? What kind of questions did they want answered? What kind of information...? "I-I've been under the largest country in the world-" he nearly choked on his own words, having to lick his lips to get some moisture to his dry mouth. "I bet you can only _imagine_ what secrets Russia has."

There was a pause, a moment of absolute silence in which Prussia did his best to keep his heavy breathing down to a minimum. _Don't show weakness. Don't let them know you're worried. Be strong. Stay awesome._

"That is very true. You are the only one who knows Russia well." A sigh. "Very well then."

"No! Prussia, don't do this!" Canada. Behind him again. _Thank Gott. Birdie is safe for now. _"I take it back! I don't want you to go through all that!"

"Don't worry, Birdie," he said, grinning as he felt himself being untied from the chair and forced up, at least two pairs of hands working to move him out of the room to wherever-the-hell they intended to do this interrogation bullshit. "Better me than you," he called, making sure to laugh. "Kesese~"

_Better me than you..._

"No! Prussia!"

~!~

The night was cold, which was to be expected at this time of year in Canada. Truthfully, it didn't really bother him; he'd much rather be vacationing in Florida or southern California right now, but there were more important things to do. Like find his brother. Besides, he wasn't cold yet; his face could feel the chill but that was it. Otherwise, he was fine.

Now, the _smell_ was a different matter. Burnt rubber. From the tires. Exhaust and smoke. From the engine. Even as he leaned back against the ruined vehicle, staring up at the cloudless sky, he had to wrinkle his nose at the stench.

So not hero worthy.

This was _so_ not what he had expected when they went out to play rescue team. It was a damn nice miracle that they had gotten away, even if they had left a crew member behind. Not that he particularly cared about losing the punk. Prussia could go off and be an idiot and get caught. He didn't care.

He wanted Mattie. That was it. Screw the stupid albino ex-nation. How the hell was that guy even alive? Shouldn't he have faded? He was such a failure, after all, losing his brother like that.

_I knew I shouldn't have trusted him. Why did I even try to hook them up? What was I thinking? God, I'm such an idiot sometimes._

His thoughts were broken by the sound of an approaching car. America glanced down the road, noting the dimmed headlights. Those were the automatic lights, not even the ones you were actually supposed to use. Someone was trying to be stealthy.

He narrowed his eyes. Who?

And then the car slowed down and pulled up right behind the broken down vehicle that America was currently against. He tensed up, hands flexing in his jacket pocket. At the first sign of danger, he'd pull out his gun and -

He blinked when he saw who was getting out of the car. A tall, straight-backed soldier-looking man in a suit. Upon closer inspection he realized it was a certain familiar German. So, Iggy had called them after all.

When Germany walked up to him, eyebrow raised, America pushed off the car and grinned like it wasn't some big deal to be stuck on the side of the road, like they hadn't just failed at a rescue mission. "Yo, dude! Really glad to see ya! Artie isn't doing so hot," he said, gesturing over to the Englishman standing some distance away from the road, staring out into the forest.

England had been standing out there ever since they'd broken down, and he hadn't moved since. America had tried to talk to him but had just made him angry and gotten no explanation, so he'd eventually left Iggy alone. The pacing was better than the complete statue-still position. It was starting to get creepy.

"What's wrong with him?" Germany muttered, but shook his head and spoke again harshly before America could even open his mouth to answer. "Whatever. Where's _mein bruder?"_

Now, America didn't really know German, but he was smart enough to figure out that Ludwig was talking about his brother. And, really, it even sounded a little bit like "my brother" when he listened hard enough. At the question, he rolled his eyes and shrugged, deciding to respond to the question he actually cared to answer instead. "I dunno. The car kinda broke down and Arthur's been pacing and thinking and mulling over facts and shit...won't talk to me at all."

Germany growled at him. America was expecting the tall German to snap something at him. After all, most people snapped at him when he avoided questions like that, but Germany just crossed his arms and glared, waiting expectantly.

Although he wanted to act innocent and completely ignore the question, he eventually sighed and glanced away. "Your brother's a moron who ran in alone after Artie specifically said not to...Now I guess he's captured with Mattie. Who knows really?"

What he was _not_ expecting was to get slammed against the car, a strong German hand pressing into his shoulder, digging, hurting. "Don't you _ever_ insult _bruder_ like that around me."

_Ow. Shit. This guy is serious._

"Hey, dude, calm down! I was just stating facts, okay? Man, you need to lighten up a bit. The point is we can't go back there without a real plan of attack because things are much more complicated than we originally thought, okay dude?"

For a moment, Germany said nothing; he did nothing; he just stood there and continued to glare and growl and look extremely pissed off. Then, he pulled back and dropped his grip and America was free to adjust his bomber jacket and attempt to look cool again. "Fine," Ludwig sighed. "Get Arthur. We're going back to get more information-"

Nodding, America slid away from the German's angry aura, feeling just a tad bit nervous after being the victim of Ludwig's frustrated stress. "Yeah, okay..." Before walking off, he did turn and tilt his head curiously. "One question though: how much information can one dude have?"

Even in the darkness he could see the blue eyes flash. "As much as we can squeeze out of him." He saw the fist as it clenched against the German's side. "And do you see anymore of those _things_ out here?"

With that line, he gulped and winced a little. Humans were humans, whether or not they were kidnapping nation representatives. He shook his head. "No, not that I've seen." He opened his mouth to make another comment on the matter, but shook his head and thought better of it, deciding it would be better not to frustrate the German more.

He _walked_ over to England. No, it was not rushed. He was perfectly calm. A hero would not run, especially not from someone who was meant to be a friend. Still, he had to admit that he let out a breath of air as soon as he reached Arthur. Relieved, refreshed, and feeling his cool excited calmness returning, he started poking the statue-still Englishman.

"Hey Iggy~" He tapped on one shoulder and then moved to the other one before moving back, switching back and forth. "Hey hey Iggy~" His pokes moved to his face, poking the cheek, noting with a laugh that the eyebrows were twitching. "Iggy, Iggy, Iggy~"

"_What?_" England's reaction was swift and loud, green eyes blazing, making America grin wider because he loved that certain gleam whenever Arthur was annoyed. "What do you wa-" The eyes blinked and the words cut off mid-sentence as the Englishman let out a breath of air, as if letting his annoyance go; America gave a little pout. "Oh. He's finally here." He watched the eyebrows furrow and the eyes blink again. "Wait. Where's Feliciano?"

With a shrug, America turned around and waved at Germany. "Hey, where's little Italy?"

He felt a book hit his head and pouted as he turned back to England. "Human name, you idiot!"

Grumbling and rubbing his head as they walked back to the car, he didn't see Germany's reaction, but he could hear the dislike in the man's voice for sure. "I'm starting to see why _Bruder_ hates you so much." A pause. America looked up to see the German facing England and seemingly ignoring him. "That's exactly why we have to go back _now_. I don't like the idea of leaving Feliciano alone with that monster."

"You left him alone?" America piped up, ideas starting to dance in his brain. They could still pull a rescue move! They may have failed with Canada but they could run in just in time and save Italy before the little nation could even get captured! "Then we should go back now and we can walk in right as he's about to get caught! Just like the real heroes do! Ahahaha!" He voiced his excited idea and ran over to the car that the German had mysteriously shown up in.

Really, this looked like Canada's car. He poked at the chipping paint and frowned at the maple leaf freshener hanging from the rear view mirror. Yeah, this was definitely Canada's car. Why did Germany take Mattie's car? Where did he find the keys?

"Hey, dude, I know Arthur's car is ruined, but why are you in my bro's car?"

Germany walked over to the driver's side and rolled his eyes. "Because I cannot easily fly across the ocean with my own vehicle, can I?"

"Oh. Yeah. That makes sense."

There was a smack to the back of his head. Another hit from England. He rubbed his head and pouted, whining as he turned around to face Iggy. "Aw, Artie, what'd I do this time?"

"You're wasting time," England huffed. "Get in the car. We need to go back."

That wasn't a real answer, but he did as England suggested anyway. "I was about to get in the car, anyway," he pouted. He was a hero! He shouldn't get beaten up by his boyfriend. That just wasn't cool!

~!~

Italy curled up against the inside wall next to the fridge, covering his head with his hands and trying not to let his voice tremble and show how scared he was. "N-No! I'm not letting you in!"

There were two people on the other side of the door. Well, there were at least two. He heard two. One of them was deep and grating and it made him think of those scary Halloween voices. "C'mon, Little Italy. We just want to make a trade. Our guy for one of yours. All you have to do is open up."

They were banging against the door, trying to break it down. He knew that's what they were doing, but he kept shaking his head and trying to think of where he could run to, where he could hide. "N-No! Ludwig said not to let anyone in!"

He would keep repeating that if he had to. For now, they just seemed to be standing at the doorway. The doorknob was shaking. He was going to start crying. "Italy~"

This time, he refused to answer them. Trembling in the corner, he shut his eyes and tried to imagine Ludwig standing here with him. "Germany...hurry..." he whispered, prayed.

Maybe he should start praying. Maybe that would help. Like the Our Father or a Hail Mary or...or...just anything! He couldn't even think straight to pray. He needed a rosary or something...something...

_Oh God, please...don't let them come in here..._

The moment the words went through his brain, something crashed through the kitchen window above the sink. His eyes widened as he saw a pole breaking through all the glass. And then someone was coming through. A man dressed as a mechanic and skinny enough to climb through the window. There was a name tag, but frankly, Italy didn't care about his name right now; he just wanted him _gone_.

_Oh God oh God oh God...please..._

"Where are you, Little Italy?"

_Please..._

He whimpered, feeling tears on his face, shaking hard, trying not to make any noise, trying to hide in the shadows beside the fridge. He heard the door slam open from the front and put a hand up to his mouth to cover his yelp.

_Don't see me, don't see me, please God, don't let them see me...Germany...I need you..._

~!~

_A/N: And you will all hate me SO MUCH for that. Sorry. Actually, no, I'm not sorry. Cliffhanger goodness. Again. Yes, yes, that's going to be happening more and more now...I told you the action was coming, didn't I?_

_Culture reference: Italy is, like, 82% Catholic? Or close to that, I think? But from what I've read, they don't just say they're Catholic (like around 24% of Americans); statistics show that a good majority are devout and go to Mass as they should and know their prayers and...yeah...seeing as I am Catholic, it's really easy to throw a little info in there. (I did look it up before throwing it in there, just to make sure that it could make cultural sense. Here's to hoping my information is correct.)_

_Seeing as this fic takes place in "present day" I'm aiming more for culture points than history points, so, please correct me if I do something that doesn't make sense. (Such as Prussia not knowing what pancakes are...oops on that one, by the way...)_

_~~Thanks for all reviews/alerts/favorites; I appreciate them all~~_

_~Reda_


	16. Chapter 16

**Author Notes****:**

-Yes, I know you all hate me now. Get ready to hate me more. (VestDan rules of writing: every once in a while, it's a good idea to piss off your readers: a lot) Ah hah. That's what goes through my head any time I throw up terrible cliffhangers or torture characters...

-And to make things worse: I started band camp, school starts in a week, and once school starts my free time will be spent more on practicing than on writing. So updates will be more likely weekly things than the nice spurts of almost-daily updates I managed to get in the summer.

-America's point of view is freaking _hilarious_. It is also full of fragments, slang terms, and doesn't always make complete sense; I see him as having this ADD type of mind so following his point of view can be a bit confusing – and entertaining – at times.

-One last point: this chapter is almost 7000 words, which is about 2000 more than average. Consider it an apology for taking so long to get it up.

~!~

One Month

Chapter 16

~!~

The ride back was tense and quiet. Tense, quiet, with a distinct hint of _hurry the fuck up_. Not that America was one to feel such things. He would rather be going the _other_ way and trying to sneak into the warehouse – because the "bust down the door and go in head first" plan hadn't really worked. As much as he loved the idea of up-front attacking, he had to admit that things hadn't exactly worked in their favor.

Still, he wanted to be driving back that way instead of back to Canada's house.

But Germany was in the driver's seat – even if it was Matthew's car – and England was in the passenger seat, leaving America to sit in the back like a bored little child. Which kind of annoyed him, honestly. Back seat car rides were the most boring of all boring-ness.

"Hey, dudes, you could at least turn some music on," he whined, leaning forward to stick his head in between the two front seats.

Germany growled something at him but he didn't catch it. Not that it mattered. Sounded like it was in German. And America couldn't understand any language other than English and a few catch phrases here and there. Though he was getting better at learning Spanish recently, but that was probably Mexico's fault – what with the flux of illegal immigrants coming from the Spanish-speaking nation. Granted, Spain liked to say Mexico's Spanish wasn't the same.

Ah well. The point was: America didn't understand German. At all.

So whenever Ludwig muttered something under his breath, he didn't catch it. Nor did he care. It was England he was trying to talk to anyway. Let the German drive.

"Alfred, just sit down and shut up for once."

_Well, that was rude._

With a pout, America let his voice whine again. "Aw, but, Iggy, it's _boring_ just sitting here." When England rolled his eyes, Alfred sat back, crossing his arms as he fell against the seat cushions behind him. "Fine, but can you tell me why we're going back and not trying again?"

Iggy let out an exasperated-sounding sigh. "_Because_, Alfred, we need a better plan, we need to regroup, _and_ Feliciano was left alone."

He blinked. "So? Can't he handle himself if something happens? I mean, Italy _is_ where the big mafia resides – I mean Mafia, with a capital "M"...right?"

Germany was shaking his head and he actually answered this time without growling. "It would be more correct to say Romano controls that side of Italy."

"Ah, I guess that makes sense. So...is that why you're worried about Feliciano? 'Cause you don't think he can take care of himself?"

England sighed again. "Alfred, do you honestly think you know Italy better than Ludwig does?"

He was about to answer with _yes, I do_...but at the look from Arthur, he held his tongue and decided to sit back and shut up like they had asked. "Never mind," he mumbled.

Thankfully, it didn't take too much longer to reach Canada's home. _Un_thankfully, there was another car parked out front. And someone was at the front door trying to bust it down. America jumped out of the car pretty fast – well, he _thought_ he was pretty fast, but somehow Germany ended up in front of him. Somehow, Ludwig managed to park the car and rush out of the door before America even had a chance to open his own door.

Still, he rushed up as fast as he could, just in time to watch Ludwig beat the stranger down, accidentally breaking the front door down in the process. "Whoa, dude, chill out," he muttered, not noticing the serious rage building around the German.

The brown haired stranger – now successfully knocked out and laying on the floor in Canada's entryway – was wearing this lame outfit of blue overalls and a red and white checkered shirt. If he wasn't an enemy, America may have made some awesome comment about how the dude was wearing his flag colors. Instead, he pulled out a gun from his jacket and followed Germany into the kitchen.

"Get. Out." came the German's flat tone, which America realized shortly was directed toward another stranger, a black haired stranger dressed in another lame outfit – this one resembling some kind of mechanic uniform, name tag included and everything.

He quickly pointed his gun toward the black haired stranger, his eyes noting Italy curled up against the far wall as if he had been trying to hide. The guy had his own gun out, pointed at Germany as well. "I think not."

_Whoo. A stand still. _

And then England appeared beside him and he knew this guy was about to get _owned_. Did the name tag read "Frank"? What was with these overly common English names? He supposed that made sense, though, if they were a part of some North American division. After all, it may not actually be their real names. If they were smart.

"G-Germany!" Italy yelped from his position.

Ludwig growled, his gun and posture still stiff and focused on this Frank guy. "I. Said. Leave."

Before Alfred could comment, a gunshot rang through the air and then Frank was jumping back out the window he came through. Huh. Canada really did have a pretty big window above his sink. Maybe they should fix that. Board it up somehow... Shaking his head, America tried to chase the guy down before he could escape, but Frank-the-strange-mechanic-dude was apparently nimble and fast, already racing to his parked car by the time America made it to the window.

"Ah shit, man, he got away!" With a pout, he set his hands on the sink edges and grumbled. "That's not very hero worthy at all."

_Seriously. How come he just got away like that? So lame..._

England came up to him, starting to lecture about something not-all-that-important. At least, to Alfred it didn't seem all that important. Something about how everything didn't always have to be about hero stuff and how at least they got back in time before the enemies could gather their captured comrade or take Italy.

But America put his gun in its holster at his hip and put his hands behind his head, tuning England out because, well, it wasn't really all that important, even if Arthur did look kind of cute when he was in that exasperated-lecturing mode. He focused in on Germany and Italy, realizing that the gunshot had been aimed toward the Italian. As he eavesdropped, he learned that Italy's arm had been slightly grazed by the bullet – nothing too serious – and Ludwig and Feliciano were going to go to Canada's bathroom to clean it up before returning to the more serious matter at hand.

As those two left the room, America turned his attention to England. "Hey, Arthur, how much magic do you think you could bust out at one moment in a battle? Like if we were to storm that warehouse, how much could we rely on your magic?"

_'Cause magic plus guns equals super awesome explosions for a super totally cool rescue mission. Unlike the last time...If Iggy would just..._

"I've used a lot as it is," Iggy sighed with a shake of his head. "I'll need a few hours to rest in order to make sure its of any significant use."

_Aw man. That sucks..._

"Oh okay," he said with a frown. "What did you use so much of it on?"

England glanced away and looked out the broken window. "A barrier around us when my car broke down."

"Wow really?" He exclaimed, reaching out to set his hands on England's shoulders. "You can do something that cool?"

"Yes, yes," Iggy answered with a sigh. "I've always been able to make simple barriers. But they take a lot of energy."

"Hm..." America stepped back and crossed his arms, trying to think of how best to use this new information. This new sweet ass information. _Ah, I love how Iggy has magic! _"So could you like put us in an invisible barrier to get into the warehouse and then we could-"

The sound of moaning from the entry way broke his train of thought completely. At first, he shot his head up and blinked, confused. Where was that sound coming from? Who would be in the entryway? Didn't Italy and Germany go to the bathroom to clean Italy's arm off? Why would...

"Oh shit!" He exclaimed, rushing toward the entryway and searching for some rope or thread or something along the way. "I forgot about that guy!"

The one Germany had knocked out when they first arrived, punching the dude through the front door, which meant they needed to board up the front door as well. And if the dude was waking up then they needed to tie him up with something...ugh...well, for now he'd just stick his gun in the guy's face. The tying up part could come later.

So, he stood in front of the brown haired dude, holding his gun out and ready to shoot if the guy even so much as sneezed wrong. When Iggy appeared beside him with rope – where the fuck? - he laughed. "Don't worry. I guess we can get info out of this guy and then get Prussia and Canada back in no time. You get the info." He flashed a grin. "I'll get the battle plan."

_Because I have the best battle plans ever, being the hero and all._

"Right," England answered as he knelt down by the bad guy and started to tie his hands behind his back. That was when the stranger started to laugh, like something America had said was the most hilarious thing ever. "What's so funny?" Arthur asked, narrowing his green eyes in suspicion.

The dude chuckled. "Oh just that it won't matter if you attack the warehouse again. There won't be anybody there after tonight."

"What do you mean? Where are they going to be?"

"Like I'd tell you."

America growled and set the gun point at the dude's kneecap. "I think you better."

To his surprise, the brown haired dressed in red-white-and-blue guy just snorted and shrugged off the threat. "You don't scare me. I have incredible pain tolerance."

Before America could follow through with his threat, he heard the distinct "ve's" of a certain Italian coming from behind him and then Arthur flashed a rather creepy looking grin. "We have a German."

~!~

He came awake with a jolt of pain, instantly clenching his jaw and grinding his teeth as he slowly opened his eyes. The blindfold was gone. He could see this time. He was sitting down, legs stretched out before him. His back was still up against something, which he deduced was a wall, and his arms were above him now, wrists shackled at some point above his head.

He grimaced. Shit, his arms were already sore; this was only going to make it worse. Another slight jolt, a bounce, and he made another observation. He was in a moving vehicle.

_They_ were in a moving vehicle.

Canada was curled up on the other side of the...van...still asleep or knocked out or whatever, but he wasn't tied down in any way. Which could mean a lot of things. Apparently there was only one set of shackles in this transportation van, which was a weird ass fucking design, if you asked him, but people tended to create the strangest shit sometimes. And non-governmental-backed movements tended to get the strangest things, so he was only partially surprised. Of course they would restrict _his_ movements and leave Canada alone, which meant that his Birdie was probably not much of a fighter.

...which was a little depressing, actually.

He took a deep breath and instantly regretted it, feeling pain in his chest. _Great. Ribs. Bruised or broken or whatever, that's going to hurt for a while... _He let out the air with a groan. "Shit, I wish I could think straight."

Not to mention his head was kind of pounding and the bounce from the rough road was not helping matters. At least Canada appeared to be okay. Sleeping, clothes dirty and torn but hopefully not as bad off as Prussia. Gilbert could hope so, at least. That had been the whole point of getting them riled up to take him instead of his Birdie.

_Why are you calling him 'your Birdie?'_

_...Shut up! I don't know! Just seemed right...It's not like I really care that much..._

_Sure, sure, just keep telling yourself that..._

He growled and was about to snap back at the teasing voice in his mind, but a different voice actually hit his ears. "P-Prussia!" He shot his head up to stare across the van at the Canadian, who was staring back with wide eyes. "Wha-what? Where are we? What's going on?" Canada started to tremble and a hand was raised to cover his mouth. "Oh Dieu, what if they're moving us? How will anyone rescue us? What's going to happen?"

When the Canadian started to hold back sobs, Prussia leaned back against the wall behind him and closed his eyes. "_Gottverdamt_, don't start crying," he whispered before opening his eyes and leaning forward slightly, trying to get those blue-violet eyes to meet his red ones. "Hey, look at me." When he finally had eye contact, he stayed absolutely still and kept his voice as steady as he could manage. "We are going to make it through this. You are not going to think otherwise unless I say you can. Got it?"

After a moment, he got a nod. "O-Oui..." Canada mumbled, taking a breath and hopefully trying to keep from crying. "But I'm so scared..."

When the Canadian whimpered, Prussia winced. "Ah -"

He shut his mouth and flexed his fingers, wishing his movements weren't restricted. He wanted to move over to Matthew and hold him close and promise everything would be okay. Which, when he thought about it, was a strange urge for him to have and it had his heart beating a bit abnormally as he tried to decipher why he suddenly cared _so_ _much_. It wasn't just that he cared period; he honestly _wanted_ to comfort the Canadian; he _wanted_ to hold on to him and protect him.

And he _couldn't_. So instead he had to think of something to say. When it came to comforting words, he wasn't exactly the best and he knew that. "Uhm...well...it's okay to be scared...sometimes..."

_Gott that was a terrible line. I suck at this..._

"B-But, I thought you didn't like w-weakness."

He blinked at Canada's statement, staring back at him for a moment, before looking away. Yes, it was true. He didn't like showing weakness; he didn't like it when people cried; he was especially rough on himself, not seeing it befitting a warrior to cry. But Canada was different. And sometimes...

Staring at some point at the back of the van, he mumbled. "Yeah, but, it's not being scared that's weak. It's...how you handle it."

_Everyone gets scared. It's normal. It's human. _

"...even the awesome me gets scared sometimes..."

_Especially when you're stuck with Russia and you have no idea what's going through that guy's mind._

Before he could continue his train of thought, their ride hit a rather rough piece of road, causing a jolt of pain to course up his back and almost make him curl his legs up. He only managed to lean forward a bit and clench his teeth, though. The bump had also caused Canada to move, and since Matthew wasn't held down by anything he ended up getting thrown into Prussia. Which made Gilbert hiss and shut his eyes.

"Ah..._shit_..."

"I-I'm s-sorry," Canada whimpered, scrambling off as quickly as he could.

Prussia hissed again through his teeth and opened one of his eyes halfway to try to get eye contact again, but Canada wasn't looking toward him this time. "Not...your fault," he managed to say before hanging his head with a shudder.

"I'm sorry that all of this had to happen to you."

"Heh, I'm used to it."

"That makes it worse! You've had your fair share of this; you shouldn't have to deal with it anymore!"

He let a light smile grace his lips, finding that he really appreciated the sentiment. When was the last time someone had cared enough to say he didn't deserve whatever was happening to him? Usually people said it was karma, because he was to blame for so much war and suffering. Canada's feelings that he didn't deserve this...it was...new and...well, he found that he liked hearing it, but he would probably never admit as such out loud.

"Life happens," he whispered instead. "Can't complain." He took a breath between each phrase, finding it difficult to stay awake, like he had used up whatever energy he had managed to gather while unconscious. "Just move forward."

He continued to let his head hang down, eyes closed, not sure if he should fight the sudden urge to sleep or not. Rest would be good to forget the pain and possibly help his body heal, right?

"Prussia," came Canada's voice, successfully keeping him awake and listening even as the urge to sleep grew stronger. "What if we don't get out of here?"

"Hm?" He mumbled, lifting his head, eyelids opening halfway. "That's not an option."

He was satisfied to hear Matthew chuckle. "Merci. I needed that." There was a moment of silence in which Gilbert tried to focus his eyesight, tried to watch his Birdie, but when Canada spoke again he was right in front of him, having shuffled closer. "Prussia...if something happens to us...I want you to know..."

The sentence wasn't finished. Instead lips touched his own, softly, timidly, and the Canadian pulled back before his sluggish brain could recognize that he'd been kissed. He licked his lips and blinked, "...know what?"

His eyes were starting to close again but he did see Canada smile. "The time I've spent with you is like nothing I've ever experienced before, and my only regret is not having more time with you."

Something fluttered in his chest at those words, a feeling that made him smile back, "That...makes me happy," he mumbled, even as his eyes slipped close again and his head hung back down, chin resting against his chest.

Hands cupped around his face, fingers brushing against his cheeks. "P-Prussia?" He loved the feeling of Canada touching him. "Gilbert? Don't leave me here."

But he was so tired... "Heh. Still here," he whispered, forcing his eyes to flutter open, seeing that Matthew was right in front of him, eyes wide and so obviously worried. "Just tired."

Something rested against his forehead and Canada's voice sounded whispered but even closer somehow. "Please don't fall asleep. I'm so scared, and it's so cold."

"Sorry," he mumbled, not really sure why he was apologizing. He tried to shift positions, groaning and flexing his fingers because he couldn't move his arms like he wanted. When he tried to shift his legs, he realized someone – namely Canada – was sitting on top of him, so he forced his eyes open to discover that Matthew had pressed their foreheads together and they were now staring directly at each other. "Right," he breathed. "Stay awake." Then he smirked. "With you on top I could stay awake all night."

He was satisfied to see Matthew blush and then smile. "Merci, Prussia. I'll do whatever you need me to if it helps you stay awake."

At that statement, he couldn't help but blink and stare. _Did he really just leave himself so completely open? He must realize I'm taking advantage of that one. I mean, really? Is he so naïve? Is he – why is it so cute?_

"Kissing helps," he muttered, hating how he couldn't use his full voice because he couldn't get a good breath of air without causing pain. "Kissing definitely helps."

Canada blushed again. _Oh, here comes the embarrassed "I didn't mean -anything-" I just have to wait and... _"O-Oui."

And then Prussia found himself kissed for the second time, not having expected it even if it was still soft and timid and _so fucking innocent_. The honest truth was, it _did_ help him stay awake; he _was_ finding it easier to focus on _not_ sleeping. The warmth of the Canadian's kiss was like a blessing in this cold, even if it was so incredibly weak and chaste and _innocent_.

After the initial surprise wore off – which didn't take too long – Prussia started to do what he did best, licking at Matthew's lips, asking to make it more. To his glee, those lips opened and he was allowed to deepen the kiss, his tongue working as he slowly and sensually explored the Canadian's mouth. He tried to move his arms and gave a frustrated groan as a result, finding that, yes, his wrists were still shackled above his head and weren't moving anytime soon.

This earned him a little moan in return from his Birdie, but Matthew pulled back all too soon for Gilbert's taste, though the Canadian was breathing heavy and seemed to have found it enjoyable. "W-wow," he panted. "You're a...uh..." Prussia tilted his head a bit, eyes curious as he waited for whatever Matthew was going to say about him. "You're a really good kisser."

He grinned and leaned back against the wall, not only at the compliment but at the fact that Canada was refusing to make eye contact and had the most adorable red face now. "Of course I am. Kese-" he cut the laugh off with a quick hiss because of the pain in his diaphragm. "Ow. Shit."

"Does it really hurt that bad?" He winced at Canada's worry, never having liked it when people pitied or worried over him. "Is there anything I could do to help?"

"I doubt it," he muttered, giving a very, very indiscernible shrug. "Don't worry. It's nothing I can't handle," he said, grinning.

To his chagrin, Canada just looked more upset. "I'm so sorry. That should've been me..."

"Keh," Prussia scoffed, shaking his head. "You're as bad as West."

"How so?" Canada asked, tilting his head to the side, making him look _so fucking cute_. Before Prussia could explain, though, Matthew shook his head and brought the serious, sad face back. "Doesn't matter. All that should matter is getting ou-" His words were cut off with a yelp as the van hit another rough bump and he was thrown out of Prussia's lap.

Thrown pretty hard, too. The hard _-thunk-_ sound reverberated throughout the back of the mostly empty van and Gilbert stared with wide eyes as Canada lay unmoving on the other side after having knocked his head pretty hard against the wall. He blinked, and stared, and then realized his Birdie wasn't getting up.

"H-huh? Birdie! Get up and talk to me!"

The exclamation came out more panicked than he wanted, than he thought was possible. Him? Panic? The Awesome Prussia didn't panic! But Birdie wasn't moving...at all...

_Oh Gott, oh Gott...oh Gott no!_

"Birdie! Wake up!" He started to breathe heavy, feeling the pain in his chest and absolutely ignoring it. "...please..."

His breath caught in his throat when Matthew shifted slightly, groaning even though he was unconscious, or asleep, or knocked out, or...whatever it was that had happened. "Gil...help..."

His heart was definitely beating faster now. He wanted to go over there. He wanted to move and help and hold him and shake him until he woke up. But he couldn't move. His arms were stuck and it was seriously starting to frustrate him. Even as he pulled on the shackles, wishing he could force himself free. "_Gottverdamt_...I can't," he whispered the words and then screamed in agitation.

The sound of Canada's whimper make him cringe back. "So...cold..."

He struggled some more, starting to feel pain in his wrists. If he could chew his limbs off like a fox or trapped animal, he might have done it – just to get to Canada. Except... "I. Can't. Fucking. Do. Anything!" He shouted, slamming his back and head against the wall with each word, unable to deal with this new worry, this insane worry that something was wrong with Canada. He didn't even care to ask why; he just wanted to know he was okay.

And then the van hit another large bump in the road and it just so happened to jostle Canada awake. Matthew sat up, rubbing his head. "Ow...o-ow..."

Seeing Canada up and moving, Prussia leaned forward as much as he could. "Are you okay? Please tell me you're okay now!"

_Wow, you're acting strange. Do you really care that much?_

He ignored the voice and focused only on Canada, on Matthew, on his Birdie. _Please be okay. _

Matthew looked up, one eye open as he rubbed his head. "Y-yeah. I think I'm fine. My head hurts though." Blue-violet eyes blinked and looked around the van. "What happened?"

Hearing the Canadian's voice responding coherently to his questions, Gilbert allowed himself to relax and lean back, letting out a big rush of held air. "Thank _Gott_, I was so -" he bit his lip on the word that would admit his worry for the man. Prussia didn't worry over people! Nope, not him! It was just a – just a fluke. He was exhausted and not thinking straight and... "...Uhm. This road sucks."

"I guess." Canada mumbled, pulling his knees up to his chest. "So I take it we're still trapped here?"

"Yeah. And still moving," he answered, closing his eyes. "I'm just glad you're okay."

"I-I think..." but Canada didn't continue his statement. There was a pause and then, "No. This isn't the time for that."

As Canada crawled over to sit next to him, Prussia fought the urge to ask him what he'd been about to say. If Canada had deemed it unimportant, then he would leave it alone, as curious as he was about it. "So..." Instead, he'd start a whole new conversation. Matthew _had_ asked him to do whatever it took to stay awake, after all. "Tell me a story."

There was a bit of an awkward, confused silence and then Canada looked up at him. "Like...what kind of story?"

_Oh sweet, he's gonna do it!_

"Doesn't matter," he said with a light smile, letting himself fall back into memory. "Hungary and I used to pass stories when we were kids..."

_We both liked making up stories of dragons and vampires and other supernatural creatures. Of course, I'd always fight them off and she'd be my damsel in distress...well...not that she'd ever agree with that...She did think she was a guy for a long time. _

_You did, too._

_Oh shut up. It wasn't like it was obvious or anything! Hell, she still beats me up today! She's not a real girl at all..._

He was brought back to the present with a sigh from Canada. "Well, there's not much I can really – oh!" The exclamation made him look over at his Birdie and stare at the excited beam in those strange blue-violet eyes. "Care to hear about when I set America's precious 'White House' on fire?"

Prussia blinked. "You set shit on fire?" The image took a minute to form in his mind. After all, he hadn't really thought of Canada as an aggressive type, so seeing him burn stuff... but once he could see it...it was... "That's awesome!"

Matthew seemed to beam even more at the comment. "He was having a little hissy fit over England, some territory issues happened, he tried to take over some of my land, so...I set his capital on fire." A sigh. "Of course England gets all the credit for it in America's schools."

Gilbert started to crack up with laughter, holding back the grimace and the pain because he didn't want to do anything to remind Canada of where they were. The whole point of this exercise was to make him forget. "That is fucking awesome! Reminds me of when I was little. Kesese~" After the laughing wore down, he tilted his head and grinned over at Matthew. "So. America is indoctrinating his kids in their education now? Changing the facts of history?"

"You might say that," Canada said with a shrug. "They hardly teach anything that won't make them believe the government needs to be involved. In everything."

To his surprise, Matthew leaned against him, resting his head on his side, curling up, almost like he was getting comfortable. The close touch from the shy Canadian confused him but he wasn't going to protest. In fact, if his arms weren't restricted, he would have wrapped them around Canada.

He sighed. "Someone should tell him it's a good idea...Just don't try to invade Russia once you build the army," he added with a wince at the old memories of German aggression and propaganda.

"Yeah, I played Risk – wait, what? Are you crazy? War is not an answer to -" When Prussia raised an eyebrow and Canada looked up, the Canadian stopped his sentence and sighed. "I almost forgot who I was talking to."

Putting on an affronted face, Prussia frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

When Canada stuck his tongue out and slapped him playfully on the shoulder, Gilbert wanted to grin at successfully distracting Canada from their current situation. "You know what it means."

"What's wrong with war?" He grumbled instead, playing along. "It used to be a glorious past time in my day." Then his own memories hit and he grinned. "And Prussians loved it because we, of course, were all awesome!"

He was met with Matthew rolling his eyes. "Oh, of course. Nothing's wrong with war. Just a few-thousand-people-dying-for-a-cause-that-in-the-end-means-very-little."

He wouldn't let that argument deter him. "Ah, but to die in battle is to die a glorious death." That had been the common thought during his glory days, at least. He closed his eyes, starting to hum a tune from a battle march, and then he snapped his eyes open at a more recent memory. "Then again, the new weaponry and technology can take the fun out of it – at least the part I liked."

"But..." He swung his head to face Canada upon hearing the dismay in the man's voice, and he was disappointed to find the Canadian curling in on himself again, staring at the floor of the van. "War makes people like us," he said softly, lifting his eyes to face Prussia, tears forming behind the strange blue-violet color. "Prisoners that are worth nothing but interrogation."

He _had_ come up with something to say. He _had_ thought he had a point to offer if this ever came up. But now that the moment was here, Gilbert found himself unable to think straight and unable to meet those eyes. So he turned away. "Tch."

Instead of leaving them with an awkward silence, the van decided to stop moving, coming to a stop and making Prussia swing his gaze to the back door where the fucking assholes would be coming from. Canada seemed to understand what was about to happen, and he cringed back into Prussia, whimpering. "G-Gil..."

A new fire was set ablaze inside him at the fear present in that voice, at the obvious pleading for protection. When the back door opened and a blond haired green-eyed human showed himself, Prussia growled and tried to think of the best way to grab all the attention again.

"Have a good rest?" Of course the bastard was grinning from ear to ear, as if this was some kind of playful game. "Then again, do freaks like you even need rest?"

"Is _freaks_ the best you can come up with?" He spat, glaring, hoping his red eyes could look intimidating as hell in this darkness, even if he was pinned to the wall.

"It was that or monsters. I decided to be a bit humane," the idiot said with a scoff. "Not that it matters." Then the asshole climbed into the van and grabbed a hold of Canada's arm, forcing him to stand up. "Come along and don't think of trying to escape."

_No! No! Take me! Not him! Please, not him!_

"Humane?" He barked a laugh, hoping it didn't sound as hysterical as he thought it did. "Well I guess you are since everything you've done so far is so predictable."

_Get angry with me and hit me. Hate me. Leave Birdie alone. If I insult you enough, you should be mad at me, right? You should want to hurt me and not him, right? Right?_

"What do you mean 'predictable?' Is this _predictable_?" To demonstrate his words, the blond-haired dick started to twist Canada's arm, making his Birdie cry out.

_No! No, this isn't what you're supposed to do! Leave him alone!_

"H-Hey! Fuck!" _It's not working...it's not working...oh shit...what can I do? _"Leave him alone!" He was starting to sound desperate; he just had to hope the bastard wouldn't realize it. Gritting his teeth, he faced the green eyes and gave the best glare he could, wishing with all he had for the man to drop dead. "And, yes, that is very predictable. Like using him to get to me. I know you're mad at me and not him. Why not be more creative?" He could hear the shackles rattling as he struggled to break free, but he stayed focused on the asshole human.

"What about this?" Asshole growled before slamming Canada into the ground. _No!_ "Was _that_ predictable?"

_Oh shit, you're making it worse, Gilbert. Think harder. There has to be something..._

_Ah – I – I – I don't know!_

Canada was whimpering as he got back to his hands and knees. "Please...stop..."

"Hah!" Asshole barked. "You had me going there for a second. I almost thought you were human!"

_I am so going to kill him. He is so dead. He is first on my list when we get out of this. I will smash him into the nearest wall...cut off his..._

He shook his head and narrowed his eyes, growling. "Let. Him. Go. Now." He wasn't loud when he gave the command; he just kept it emphasized and put space between each word; his voice sounded flat and toneless. If he were free...

_If I could move..._

But the human had all the control. When he grabbed Canada again, Prussia started to growl like some kind of pissed off animal. Then the blond haired human smirked and threw Matthew out of the van, toward a small group of other humans who caught him and began to carry him off. "There. I let him go."

Oh, yes, he was definitely going to kill this human. He was craving the blood already. "Well, since you're fulfilling requests, why not leave him out of this completely? Let him go home." It was like grasping for straws.

And the guy only started laughing at him. "Oh that's rich! What do you care anyways? You only make friends with those you're in an alliance with." A smirk. "Alliances won't be needed once we're done, though."

Prussia snorted, finding the idea ridiculous. "I suppose now is the part where you tell me the master plan...and then I'll magically break free and kill all of you without even breaking a sweat, finishing the day by taking the sweet maiden's hand and riding off into the sunset."

_Yeah...you're going crazy...what are you even talking about?_

_Shut up! I'm rambling! I'm trying to keep him talking! Make him mad; make him so mad he'll let me go and and...maybe..._

"This is all a big joke for you, isn't it?"

_See! He's mad! Now he'll take me instead of Birdie! He has to take me instead of Birdie..._

"Like it or not, we will make your nation crumble and fall."

_...wait, what? Does he not know who I am?_

The guy continued, too. "Though I don't suppose it'll hurt to let you in on a little secret." A grin. "We're getting the weakest ones first. Right now, we have men going after _both_ of the Italys."

_Uhm...what...do you even know who the weak ones are...?_

Prussia rolled his eyes. "Do you even know..." He shook his head and sighed. "You must be the stupid American of the group."

The asshole opened his mouth to snap something but was interrupted by a phone call. Prussia could only stare as the guy answered the phone and then started talking in clipped, terrible Russian. Which made Prussia shudder and groan.

"...why did it have to be Russian?" He muttered, hating the way he always flinched away from the memories.

He heard the click of the phone call ending and looked up to see the human walking away. "Sorry, but our meeting is going to be cut short." The human jumped out of the van and turned around to grab both doors.

_They're going to lock me in here! Away from Birdie!_

"I've been instructed to leave you here until we get some information out of Canada."

_No! No no no no no no! You can't! I can't! This isn't -! Ah ! Fuck!_

The blond-haired human grinned. "Have fun," he said as he began to close the doors. "Because you know I will."

And with a slam, Prussia was left alone in the darkness.

_No!_

_...Birdie..._

~!~

_A/N: Holy shitake mushrooms! Don't hate me. Spamano in the next chapter! Though I can't promise when that will be. I will do my best, though! I can promise that much! (And please don't take offense for certain characters calling countries weak or stupid)_

_Reviewer Replies:_

_AK-Kun45: Masterpiece? Like HetaOni? Oh my goodness, you flatter me. Thanks for the review! _

_~~Thanks for all reviews/alerts/favorites; I appreciate every single one and every review makes me squeal for joy; they really are big motivators to write more! Thanks!~~_

_~Reda_


	17. Chapter 17

**Author Notes**:

-OH MY GOD SCHOOL! AH! I HAVE NO LIFE! NONE! I JUST WANNA GO HOME AND HUG MY KITTY AND WRITE MY STORIES AND GIVE LESSONS IN THE AFTERNOON ALREADY! PLEASE! LET THESE CRAZY BUSY DAYS END!

-Ah hahahaha. Spamano is funny.

-Especially Romano's point of view.

-And my Spain is...well...I had a little OOC comment say ((DON'T ASK I DON'T EVEN). Fair enough warning?

-I want to make a quick point here: My sister plays the part of Canada in this role-play and, yes, she knows she made him a bit too much of a crybaby at first. However, I used it and turned it into character development and a plot point. Prussia goes through subtle character development as well, throughout this whole story we've cooked up. Actually, a lot of them do. I love subtly changing characters based on what they go through. It's almost like real life that way! ;)

-There will be action in this chapter. ACTION ACTION ACTION! (It's terrible, really).

**Warning****:**

-A little gore mentioned here. I BLAME SPAIN. Anyway. What's the term? Yandere? Eh?

**One Shot Gift Fic Chance****:**

-So, I offer a free one shot to every 50th reviewer. We're coming up to 150. The last two times, I've offered and the ones who 'won' never responded back. We'll see what happens this time.

~!~

One Month

Chapter 17

~!~

Romano was sleeping. He was enjoying his sleeping. He was having quite the good dream. Not that he could remember a thing about it once Spain started poking at him and speaking to him in that light sing-song voice of his.

"Lovi~ It's morning~ Time to wake up~"

He growled into the pillow and reached out to grab one of the other ones next to him, chunking it toward Spain's most annoying head. "Too. Early. Bastard!"

As he tried to close his eyes and ignore the tomato bastard, he heard the light chuckle next to his ear. "Aw, Lovi, the earlier you get up the more time we have together!"

With a yawn and a blink, Romano lifted his head from the most comfortable pillow and stared up at the smiling tomato bastard. He stared for a moment then huffed and let his head fall back to the bed as he closed his eyes and pulled the covers up over his shoulders. "Who the hell wants to spend more time with you than is absolutely necessary?"

To his chagrin, Spain only chuckled more. "You're so cute, Lovi~"

"Who're you calling cute, bastard?" He sat up quickly, the blanket falling around his waist, and, no, he was _not _blushing. He did not do such things.

"You, of course!" Spain responded with his light-headed grin before the tomato bastard tackled Romano back down to the bed, cuddling close.

Romano, naturally, fought to get free, pushing back. "B-bastard, get off me! I-" The sound of the front door slamming open made him freeze.

_What could that be? Who would be busting into the tomato bastard's house? Isn't that Prussia asshole over in Canada? And France wouldn't slam the door; he'd at least knock first._

Thankfully, the tomato bastard seemed to have heard the door slam open as well. Spain stood up, scratching his head and frowning as he did so. "That's strange. I could have sworn that door was locked."

With a growl, Romano leaned over the canopied king-sized bed, sitting up on his elbows as he opened a drawer from the dresser beside the bed. "Damn it all," he spat as he pulled a gun and some bullets out of the drawer and rolled over on his back as he started to load the weapon. "Go make sure it's not another fucking gang or something."

Spain seemed to pout as he walked away. "But I thought we chased them away..."

"Si, but still," Romano said as he finished sliding the bullets into place in his gun, looking up to see that Spain had already left the room – and the battle axe was no longer propped up on the wall. He growled when he realized he'd been talking to air. "Tomato bastard."

He started to think and ponder on who could be breaking into Antonio's house, but the room's window crashing open completely tore his thoughts from him. "Chigi!" He exclaimed, raising the gun in the direction of the crash.

The rather large bedroom window – which also gave a wonderful view of the outside garden scenery – was now a mess on the red carpeted floor. Glass shards filled the carpet and an average sized smirking man was standing there with a pole in one hand and a gun in the other hand. At first glance, someone might have mistaken the bastard for Spain but of course Romano would never make such a mistake. Even if the green eyes and brown hair and stupid happy-go-lucky _smile_ was near identical.

"What the _fuck_?" Romano exclaimed, instantly firing a few shots at the guy, somehow managing to keep from shaking once the bastard went down to his knees, holding his arm, that stupid smile gone from that stupidly happy face.

As he took deep breathes of air, he could see Spain arrive back in the room, that familiar ditzy grin still on his face but those green eyes showing something deeper. Something a little more sinister as the gaze moved from him to the window-jumping bastard. "Nice shot," Antonio murmured.

Hearing footsteps, Romano lifted his gun again, knowing there was a guy coming from behind the tomato bastard. Just as the stranger came into view, though, Spain's eyes hardened for a split second and the axe spun through the air. This movement successfully cut the sneaky bastard in half.

In. Half.

Gore. Guts. Blood. Everything. Everywhere.

And Spain was just standing back up, spinning his axe until the blade stood straight up in the air again, the handle leaning against Toni's shoulder. "Oh dear, that's going to stain," the Spainard said in his stupid sing-song voice as he frowned at the mess behind him.

Romano winced and looked away from the scene, muttering, "Sick ass bastard," under his breath as he cocked his gun and pointed it toward the guy on the floor. "The fuck are you doing here? Start talking."

The ditzy stranger flinched away from the Spainard – not that Romano could honestly blame him after seeing Spain cut the other intruder in half without question. "W-we were ordered t-to capture the Italian brothers. Completely underestimated -"

"Capture us? Wait, why?" He blinked, the plural of said statement connecting in his brain. "Aw, shit, Veneziano!" His eyes widened considerably.

Spain, on the other hand, didn't seem to understand his worry, tilting his head and smiling lightly like he always did. "He's with Germany, isn't he?"

"That potato-sucking-bastard?" Romano spat. "Knowing him, he's probably too caught up in his work to even notice Veneziano getting fucking kidnapped!" Feeling his patience wearing tremendously thin, he moved the gun to be level with the ditzy stranger's head. "You will tell me fucking _everything_."

Even as the guy began to tremble, Spain moved closer and crouched down beside the ditz. The axe swung up to rest across Spain's shoulders as the smiling face formed that thin line of a serious face that was so rarely seen on the usually happy-go-lucky nation. "Yeah. Talk. I would like to know why you felt the need to make a mess in my house."

_Tch. You made more of a mess than he did, didn't you?_ Romano shivered even as the thought hit his brain. Even knowing what Spain was capable of, it was still a little frightening to know that under the happy facade lurked something much more sinister. It was like Russia...but different. Russia always exuded a creepy air, whereas Spain was simply overprotective.

"Okay, okay! Shit!" The Ditz was trembling. "You nation freaks are fucking insane!"

Romano felt his eyes widen at first, but then he gritted his teeth and lowered his eyebrows. "What do you mean freaks? And how did you know we were nations?"

Ditz smirked back at him at first, but then Spain shifted positions, bringing attention to the battle axe. The human lost the smirk and stuttered as he answered, yelping in a high-pitched squeak when the metal blade came dangerously close to him. "O-our intelligence network is top of the line, you know. I-Its Russian. We're trying to bring about a one-world-government and one-world-nation...and Russia started it up. Because eventually everyone will be one with Russia."

Romano scoffed. "Should've fucking known," he muttered under his breath. "Why are you going after me and my fratello first?"

"Ah, well," Ditz winced and looked down. "We were told to go after the weakest first."

"I AM NOT FUCKING WEAK!" Seeing red, Romano shifted the gun, clicked the safety off and moved his finger to the trigger, completely ready to shoot the human. "I'll show you weak, you bastard!"

But then Spain's cheerful laugh made him freeze. "Oh, Lovi, you're so cute when you're angry~"

At being called cute, Romano flinched and pulled back his anger surprisingly quickly. His finger left the trigger and he clicked the safety back into place, trying not to blush as he turned his glare to Antonio. "Bastard, shut up!"

"...and our North American forces have gotten Canada...and Prussia now...and..."

Apparently, Ditz had decided to keep mumbling stuff even as he stared at the floor and shook like crazy. At the name of one of his friends, Spain actually turned his attention to the ditzy human. "What? Prussia? You must be joking..."

Romano let his gaze shift between the two of them, lowering the gun, as he furrowed his brow and tried to figure out why the hell... Oh hell... It would be better to ask... "Why the fuck would you capture Prussia?"

Ditz was shaking as he answered, still trying to ever-so-slowly sneak away from the smiling Spainard with the weapon. "H-he ran into one of our bases on some kind of rescue mission and-

When Spain started to laugh, Lovino moved his narrowed-eyed gaze to the lovable idiot. "Now _that _I can believe!"

With a sigh and shake of his head, Romano rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Where are they now? What are you doing to them? And have you gotten any information about my brother?"

He really wasn't expecting the idiot human to respond. Truthfully, he was expecting the guy to grow some balls like a real spy character and refuse to give anything up. What did it say about Italians, after all, if the Italian human in this organization was such a pussy?

Seriously...When Ditz just shivered and spilled his information, Romano found it annoying even if it was exactly what he would have wanted. "I have no information on your other half...but...The others are... Th-they're being taken to an overnight place in the Canadian winterland and will soon be transferred to our Siberian base. That's in Russia. The goal is to separate and weaken them and keep them far from their countries so that the nations will crumble and die out."

Spain was standing up, the smile gone from his face, plunging his axe pole into the floor and using it to pull himself to his feet. "Now that sounds serious."

Romano nodded. "Si, should we keep him?" He asked, gesturing over at the cowardly human. "Or can I shoot the bastard in the face and then call Veneziano?"

Spain shrugged. "I do hate keeping prisoners."

Romano winced.

_Yeah. I should have known that, what with the mess of a human staining your floor. And you don't even care. Holy hell, I'm glad that side of you only comes out when we're threatened. _

"True, but..." He licked his lips. "This guy is giving out lots of information without even having to work hard. We may need him."

Spain shrugged again. "Whatever you say, Lovi." Romano felt his teeth grind against each other almost instinctively at the fucking nickname, but he didn't get a chance to comment on it because the tomato bastard was already lifting the axe and gesturing for the human to get up and follow. "You. Follow me. And no funny business." While Spain led the ditz out of the room, he turned his natural smile back on and tossed some words over his shoulder. "Call your brother. I got this one."

"Si, si," Romano said with a sigh, "Whatever bastard."

Leaning back, he tossed his gun back into the drawer and pulled out his cell phone instead, a little sad to make the switch. Sitting up, he dialed his brother's number and waited for his other half to pick up. "Ve? Romano, why are you calling? Isn't it early over there?"

Not even caring to notice the comment, Romano found himself basically shouting into the phone as he explained everything that had just happened. "Jesus, Veneziano!" Granted, he was also glad to hear that his fratello was safe and sound. "Look, I just woke up and there were these two fucking idiots who thought it would be cute if they tried and captured me! Of course, I shot the bastards, one of them's still alive, and," here he mumbled," Spain may have helped a little...but that doesn't matter! The fact is, this bastard said some people were going to try to get you, too, and I wanted to let you know that your stupid ass white flag isn't going to help with these guys!"

"Ve~ It's okay, Romano. Germany is here and they already attacked. I even have my very own battle wound now. It's just a scratch, though, so don't worry."

Lovino Vargas felt the anger snap at the mention of his fratello being wounded. "You got _hurt_?" Son of a bitch! I'm going to kick every single one of their asses!"

"Ah, no, it's okay really. England and America are here, too. So I've got a lot of protection already. Besides, it's much safer if you stay put, Fratello."

Letting his eyes glance over the mess of gore on Spain's bedroom carpet, Romano huffed into the phone. "Yeah, that's why there's two halves of a dead idiot all over the damned bedroom. Look, I don't know what game you guys are playing, but these people want to destroy our nations by separating us from them. Watch out. Don't be caught alone for _anything_."

"Oh then," he heard Veneziano gasp over the phone. "They want to separate us? B-but...I'm already in Canada...what'll happen if-"

"The fuck are you doing in _Canada_?"

"W-Well, see, Canada got captured and Prussia called for Germany's help and now we're trying to rescue them both and oh~ things just got so out of control; I don't know what to do..."

Romano sighed loudly into the phone. "Damn it, Veneziano, listen to me. Prussia and Canada are going to be moved to Russia God-knows-when, so you need to keep a clear head."

"R-Russia?" He could hear his fratello starting to panic already. "Wh-what am I supposed to do? If they get taken that far away we may never see either one of them again..."

"Damn it, Veneziano! I _just_ said to keep a clear head! Listen to me! I know they're in a base somewhere in 'winterland Canada.' We have one of their idiots here who's spilling out information like a fucking encyclopedia."

"O-oh, you do? Then are you coming here to help?"

Romano huffed, "I guess so. Besides, I can't trust anyone else to make sure you don't get your ass captured. I'll see you whenever-the-fuck-we-get-there." With another exasperated sigh, he hung up the phone and immediately called out for the Spanish ditz. "Tomato bastard! Change of plans, we're going to Canada!"

"Whatever you want, Lovi~" Before he could growl something about the nickname this time, Spain walked back into the room, holding his axe in the crook of his arm and leading around a handcuffed human idiot. "His name's Fernando, by the way. Fernando U. Ditz. Is that right?"

When the human nodded, Romano found himself unable to stop staring. Fernando was normal. Who the fuck actually had the last name "Ditz?" _Holy shit, the irony..._

~!~

America and the others were sitting around his brother's kitchen table, trying to have a discussion of what to do next. Well, America was trying to convince them to go out and fight again. Of course, just when he was sure to be winning the debate, Italy had gotten a phone call from Romano – at what was apparently an odd time, seeing as it was early morning over there. Anyway, so now Italy was having a conversation with his brother and America found that he was back at square one with trying to convince Germany and England to try another up front attack again.

Just as America opened his mouth to explain his reasoning for the third time – obviously they hadn't heard the first two times – Italy walked back into the room. "Hey Germany~ England~ I have some great news."

_Hey, why didn't he say my name?_

Germany's blue eyes switched their focus from America to the bouncy Italian. "What is it, Italy?"

As Italy sat down in a chair next to Germany, he said, "I just got off the phone with Romano. He said they captured one of their guys and now they're coming here with him~ They also said he's been giving out tons of information, so it should be a lot of help!"

While Germany sat back, shoulders relaxing from the normally stiff posture, he muttered, "Finally some good news."

And America scoffed and kicked his chair back to two legs, playing the balancing act as he returned to the important conversation. "So, yeah, Iggy can sneak us in with his invisible barrier thing and then we can -"

"Change of plans," Arthur interrupted, shooting a bit of a glare toward America, not that Alfred really cared. "We'll wait for Romano to get here, get as much information as possible out of the new captured enemy, and then make our new plan based on that."

With a groan, America let his chair fall back to four legs. "Change of plans? Can we really afford that? If they're moving soon then we should hit them hard and fast."

England only huffed as if exasperated. "Guess what, genius, we tried that. Prussia getting captured mean anything to you?"

Before Alfred could respond, Feliciano spoke up, relaying more information. "Ah, that's right, Romano said something about them being moved to Russia."

Even if he didn't understand why, America could feel the entire room lose a few degrees at the very mention of the colder nation. Nobody liked Russia. That much was certain. But why were Iggy and Germany both so pale? What - ?

He licked his lips and opened his mouth to ask what the big deal was, when Germany nearly jumped out of his chair in an effort to grab Italy's hands and face him directly. "What – what did you say?"

And of course Italy yelped at the sudden attention. "Ah, R-Romano said they were going to be moved to Russia, but he doesn't know when."

In an instant, the German was on his feet, blue eyes hard and serious and seemingly not even seeing the rest of them. "We can't let them go to Russia."

Kicking his chair back again, America shot forth with a little reminder, "Yeah, but Iggy said -"

And he soon found himself falling backwards, the German having walked past him and put weight on the back of the chair to make him fall. He hit the kitchen floor with a thud and grimaced slightly, having done such a thing enough times not to even notice the little pain, but he hadn't really expected the stoic German to be the one to cause him to fall backwards.

"I don't care. I'm going after _mein bruder_...now..." Germany growled, walking out, grabbing his old green military hat on the way.

As expected, Italy jumped up and proceeded to run after the blond haired, blue eyed man. "W-wait, Germany! We need to wait for Romano and – and -"

While those two left the building, America crawled back to his feet, rubbing his head. "Shit, man, he didn't need to knock me over. Funny how the mention of Russia set him off, though..."

Arthur, who hadn't moved from his seated position, simply shook his head. "You of all people should know. Do you not remember the Berlin Wall at all?"

As he pulled his chair back up and sat back down, Alfred chewed at his bottom lip and tried to recall why that phrase was familiar. "Berlin Wall...Berlin Wall...Well, Berlin is Germany's capital and – oh right!" He slapped his fist into an open palm as the information was pulled up from the back of his memory. "That's what separated them after the war! ...but what makes Russia so terrible? I mean, he is a dirty commie, but what could make Germany react like that?"

With a scoff, Arthur rolled his eyes. "You know nothing of the history you were there for."

Narrowing his eyes, Alfred decided to snap back at the insult. "Ah, screw history. I tend to forget the past and live in the moment."

~!~

Meanwhile, Germany found himself currently stopped by his Italian lover, standing at the edge of the car, keys out but door as of yet unlocked. He glared off into the darkness as if he could find the bastards who had taken his brother and kill them with a look. "The longer we wait, the more time we give the enemy."

Arms wrapped around him and he found his glare lightening up. "But you don't even know where they are! And what will you do when you find them! They'll just end up capturing you, too!"

He winced because the logic made sense. Italy's logic was making sense. "Sitting here is not going to free him. I can't let him get taken back to Russia. I can't..."

A soft face nuzzled into his shirt. "We'll get them out, Germany. I promise," Italy said as he lifted up and somehow managed to plant a kiss on Germany's cheek.

Feeling his shoulders start to relax, he let himself sigh. "How? Who knows what they're doing now? How long can we wait?"

"We'll wait as long as we need to," Italy mumbled into his shirt, completely leaning against him now, almost forcing Germany to put his arms around him in response. "Once Romano gets here, we can get the information we need, then we can save them."

Knowing his Italian was speaking logical sense, Germany forced his breath to release, forced his shoulders to relax. He was tired of being so tense, after all. Worrying and wandering around Canada wouldn't solve anything. They needed specific information. And for that, they had to wait. Italy was right.

"How long until they arrive?"

Italy took a moment to respond, as if afraid of the answer he had to give. "Probably not until tomorrow morning, but I'm sure they'll be fine! Prussia's really strong." As if sensing his tension, Italy moved his hands and started to massage Germany's back, kneading those stiff muscles. "Just relax, Germany. Everything's going to be fine."

"You're right. It is a good idea to rest before going into battle, anyway." Convincing himself that this was the best thing he could do, Germany turned back around to start walking back into the house, holding Italy's hand in his own.

The hand in his squeezed back, "Ti amo, Ger-"

A gunshot cut the peaceful night in half and even as Italy jumped at the noise, Germany spun around, putting his back to the house, pulling a handgun from his side, immediately on guard for the enemy. "Get inside. Now."

~!~

The moment Germany gave the order, Italy was gone. The idea of the otherwise peaceful cool night air soon becoming a battlefield... He pretty much sprinted to the house, only wishing Germany had followed him instead of walking backwards slowly.

He got instant curious attention from England and America, who had made their way to the front entryway. Arthur looked at him with worried eyes. "What's going on? Was that gunfire?"

America didn't even wait for the confirming nod, pulling a gun out of his jacket and eyes narrowed in that serious gleam Italy saw way too many times on Germany's face when they were in a fight. "Artie, stay back. We don't want you using your magic up and not having anything for the important stuff."

With a nod, Arthur gave in. "Right. Italy, you're with me; we're going to the back of the house."

Shaking his head, Italy stood his ground. "What about Germany?"

"He'll be fine," England reassured.

An American curse followed the sound of cracking glass as a gunshot entered the house through a window, making Alfred jump back startled. He seemed unharmed, though, as did everyone else. Before Italy could duck, Germany came into the house, slamming the door shut behind him and glancing around the room, eyes focused on so much else besides the worried, slightly freaking out Italian who so needed a hug right now...

Feliciano watched as those eyes lit up and then turned to the American of all people. "Alfred! We need to board up the windows and doors. Get whatever works and help!" As he said this, Germany moved to the entryway table, flipping it over and setting it against the door to make it difficult for anyone to simply enter.

Nodding, Italy spun around and started looking for things to board up the windows. He ended up helping Arthur close up the kitchen windows and other openings throughout the house. It almost felt like they were in some kind of old action movie, or old world war battle again – only this time America and England were on their side. The very idea sent a shiver down his spine. He didn't particularly like wars. He didn't like having to fight. He didn't want to be stuck doing this.

But the gunshots coming from outside – as well as the ones coming from their side – were starting to blur together and become a normal sound of the day. It was starting to blur into his memories. He was starting to forget he was in Canada. He was starting to wish Germany would just come stand by him and hide under the white flag to make it all end.

He could hear America shout, "Shit, how many of them are there?"

And he could Germany respond, "A lot. It appears they're serious about this."

From his place by another window, England shouted back. "Well, so are we!"

When he saw Arthur's hands lifting up, spell book opening, Italy added his own exclamation to the noise. "No! England, how will Fratello get here if you put a spell around us?"

As if the very mention of England using magic was all he needed, America snapped something through the house. Because they were all somewhat separated in different rooms – with America and Germany toward the front and England and Italy in the back. "Iggy! What did I tell you about wasting your magic?"

"Fine!" England snapped back. "But you find a way to get rid of them!"

Shaking slightly, not sure what use he could possible be without even a weapon to fire himself, Italy found a wall and sat back against it, waiting for the nightmare to end. And then he heard the familiar clacking of a gun not firing. "Oh shit!" came America's shout.

Followed by Germany's muffled, "Out of ammo already?"

"Hey! I shot just as many as you. It's like they sent their whole base after us..."

England's shout came next. "What could they possible want to -"

The reason hit Italy like a ton of bricks. "That's it!" He snapped, getting the others to shut up, probably because they weren't used to hearing his voice over the sound of gunfire. "Germany! They want their informant back!"

He could hear Germany's curse. "Then go set the bastard free; if that's all they want, then find. We can't hold this for much longer."

_Besides, communicating through shouts is making everyone's voices hoarse._

Nodding to himself more than anything, Italy started to crawl through the rooms to the basement door. He did start out walking, but the sound of gunfire quickly had him lowering his head with each step until he was basically crawling instead of walking. Whatever worked. He had something important to do, as scary as it was to think of being alone with two guys responsible for the kidnapping of nations.

He made it down to the basement and caught eyes with the recent addition to their captured humans. The brown haired human, so named George, was glaring at him. Italy stopped crawling and walked over to stand in front of the two of them. The bald one, nametagged Bob, seemed really out of it and covered in dried blood, but George looked like he wanted to kill him with his look.

"Uh-uhm...hi?"

_That was stupid! Why did you even start talking to them?_

George found it funny. "Hi? Really?"

Shifting slightly, Italy shrugged. "Uh – h-hey, if we let you go will you tell your buddies to leave us alone?"

The brown haired human narrowed his eyes and then grinned. "Of course. Let us go and we'll tell everyone to leave the freaks alone."

_We aren't freaks!_

Well, he wanted to shout at him and call him names and be mean and serious and all that I'm-in-charge-here stuff, but of course it never wanted to come out like that. "Ve...Grazi..."

He winced even as the words came out. Romano would have known how to treat these guys, but Italy couldn't seem to draw up enough anger to hate them. They were humans; they had a reason for what they were doing; and humans did tend to hate that which they didn't understand so... There _was_ a reason they, the personified nations, had decided to keep their existence a secret from the world in general, showing their true identities only to the leaders of the countries.

So, he couldn't hate them. He could only feel sorry for them. And be scared of their hate and anger and wonder why...

So he wasn't really expecting the human to do anything once he was untied. He most definitely wasn't expecting the man to grab a knife from the nearby table that was clearly set up for interrogation torture techniques... And he wasn't expecting the human to hold the knife to his throat, spinning him around to start forcing him back up the stairs, like a hostage or something ridiculous.

"Of course, you're going to have to come with me if you really want them to stop."

"W-wait, no, that's not - G-Germany!" Of course, that didn't stop Italy from calling out for his lover and always-protector.

And of course, Germany was jumping for the rescue, opening the basement door and staring down the darkened staircase, eyes wide as they took in the situation. Italy watched the eyes narrow, watched the arm move up, the gun raised and pointing at something just above and behind Feliciano's own head. "Let. Him. Go."

Apparently, George was not scared by the threat at all. "Why should I? All you've done is hold me prisoner!"

"Germany..." Italy whimpered, knowing he was putting his lover in a difficult situation yet again, knowing his weakness was making things difficult for the one he loved yet again.

"You shut up!" George shouted, the knife coming up and feeling cool against Italy's throat.

Germany growled. "I can shoot you much faster than you can move that knife, so do as I say!"

Yeah. Germany was damn near close to panicking. He probably didn't want to shoot someone point blank, but the situation was so... what else was he supposed to do? But...there had to be another way... Italy didn't want someone to die, not because of him, not like this... War was bad enough. This was...

"Then do it," George said with a smirk. "Come on, now, it shouldn't be hard. Killing _is_ in your nature, isn't it?"

Feliciano could see Ludwig flinch; he could see the fight in those eyes. He knew this wasn't going to end well. He just hoped Germany wouldn't -

"I can't let you have him. Don't you fear for your life?"

_He'll do anything for me... He'll do...anything..._

"Of course I do," George said with a scoff. "But I know what I'm fighting for is worth more than a life or two."

When the knife pressed closer, breaking skin, Italy winced and met Germany's eyes, trying to be strong, trying to tell him not to do anything drastic. "Mi dispache, Germany. I walked right into this."

"What you're fighting for?" Germany seemed to growl out, his eyes growing suddenly distant and soft. "Life is the only thing worth fighting for."

"Whatever you say," the human scoffed again. "So are you going to let me go or am I going to have to destroy this country right here on the spot?"

Before the death threat could even finish, Germany pulled the trigger. The bullet landed in George's head, and the human fell back, sprawling down the basement stairs in a crash. Italy stared at Germany, seeing the serious hard gaze, a look that reminded him of a worse time. A face that said his mind was putting aside the feelings of killing, something his brother may have taught him, something that turned Ludwig into an uncaring monster in the last year of the second world war.

It was a look he had hoped never to see again, and yet here it was. Right here. Right in front of him. Brought to the surface again _because_ of him.

Italy dropped to his knees and stared at the floor. When Germany rushed over and put his arms around him, Feliciano couldn't feel the warmth of an embrace. He could only feel cold, distant. He should be used to Germany killing people; he'd seen it happen so many times in the war. But this was...

This was in cold blood. This was when something else could have solved the problem. Why? Why had he gone so heartless right at the moment of decision? Why had he pulled the trigger? Was that monster still lurking inside his lover? That monster that had been fine with killing so many people – his _own_ people – based on a religious or racial difference.

No, he didn't want to see Ludwig go back to that. He had to make him see that there was no reason to ever go back to that mentality. People _did_ matter. He _should_ care.

Even if Italy's life was at stake...there was no reason to resort to killing. Was there? A life for a life? Did they really see themselves as more important? Did the humans really have a reason to hate them after all? Because they put their lives above the humans...did that make it okay to kill one of them to save a nation? Did it make it okay?

What if Germany did go back to being a monster, seeing humans as lesser beings, seeing them all as...

Italy shook his head and pushed Ludwig away from him. He needed time to think. He needed time away from this. He couldn't...This wasn't just a single incident...this was a movement...and movements were built by ideals. He needed to be ready.

When the time came...he _would_ be ready. He would know which was right and which was wrong. Killing was wrong no matter what, right? Right? His religion said so...shouldn't he fall back on that?

...Is it okay...to kill someone...to save someone else?

~!~

_A/N: Okay...I get off my soapbox now... But I'm just trying to make you think! I mean, actually, Italy's part was originally my sister; I just completely ran off with it! Several things happened in this chapter. Several things that are very risky things to do with characters. I am so scared. But we'll see what you think, no?_

_-And remember, review 150 gets a free oneshot! Of anything! Provide a prompt, I write a story! Yeah! (Seriously, oneshots are much easier to write out than these chapters, urgh~)_

_-lol "Fernando U. Ditz" is one of those silly things that pops up in role-plays, especially when it comes to names; it was meant to be more of the same initials for "Fuck U DOLPHIN!" from that South Park episode, but, eh, it actually spells out a phrase...'Fernando, you ditz.' and so he IS a ditz or at least so he is called by Romano. Ah. Whatever. Maybe I'm just weird._

_~~Thanks for all reviews/alerts/favorites; and thanks for putting up with me as I deal with school and try to update at the same time!~~  
_

_-Reda  
_


	18. Chapter 18

**Author Notes****:**

- PruCan! Rawr!

-So much happens. And yet nothing at all happens.

-On another note: YAY FINALS FOR FALL QUARTER ARE OVER! YES! I HAVE A BREAK! … I'm working more on NaNoWriMo, but if I can at least catch up on that, I may be able to throw out a few chapters during my break, too.

~!~

One Month

Chapter 18

~!~

It was cold.

Of course it was cold. He was trapped now in some basement dungeon setup. It was like a castle dungeon, or it looked like it, because of the stone walls and the chains. Of course he was chained up. They fucking loved having him chained up for some reason. Thankfully, though, his arms could rest this time. Having his ankles connected to some chain links allowed him to move around at least a little and it made things a lot more comfortable.

Sitting down, he watched with tired eyes as the cell door opened with a loud creaking noise. He kept his eyes narrowed until a roughed-up Canada was thrown into the cell, sprawling out on the hard stone floor right in front of Prussia. Ignoring the humans that he couldn't reach anyway, he instead rushed over to crouch down beside Matthew, reaching out slowly, worried about touching him.

"Hey," he winced when his voice came out hoarse, giving away that he'd been screaming at the guards for a while. "You okay?"

Canada rolled over to look at him, showing a face red and scratched up, bruises forming around his jaw. "O-oui...I'm fine..." the light voice whispered, a small smile forming.

Prussia smiled back, glad to see the Canadian learning how to put on the brave face. He knew that the man was probably still scared, but at least now he was working to keep it hidden. At least for now, their conversations wouldn't be spent with him trying to calm Canada down.

"Good," he whispered back, reaching out with his hand to press the back of his fingers and hand against Matthew's cheek. "Did they -"

He cut himself off immediately, biting the inside of his cheek and mentally berating himself.

_Freakin' idiot. Don't ask about what they did to him._

_I just want to know what they're asking about..._

_It doesn't matter! _

_Or what he tells them..._

_It doesn't – well – I guess that part does matter. But that gives you no reason to ask him. He's not strong enough to handle talking about it; he's not like you; he's not used to it. _

_I know that! Shit! I wasn't always good at handling torture either, you know._

_No...I didn't know that..._

_Tch. Whatever. It doesn't matter now, does it?_

His thoughts were successfully interrupted by the feeling of Canada rolling closer, almost as if he were gratefully leaning into the touch. "I think my leg's broken, though."

Feeling his teeth clench down, Prussia glared toward the closed doorway. "I swear I'm going to kill all of them."

_They hurt my Birdie!_

_...your Birdie?_

_Yeah! My - _

"It hurts so much and I'm so scared!" Canada cried out, finally breaking down.

_Yeah...he's definitely not used to this at all... He has been rather sheltered, I think...for the most part. Though I do kind of remember him from the Second World War and he was stronger then, in battle, but this? This is something completely new, completely different, and he has no faith in people finding him._

_It's surprising that you do..._

He tensed up at the mental reminder of how long he was left as a servant of Russia. How long he had been trapped there, stuck, forced to live with people he hated. Forced to live away from the only person he could call family. Discovering that his brother had no care to fight hard to reunite them, either... And after being so sure that Germany would try to reunite them quickly.

But this was different. They _should_ have hope. Hell, Prussia _knew_ people were coming. He'd been a part of the rescue mission to begin with after all, and yet Canada still felt like they would forget about him.

Trying to keep himself from frowning, Gilbert pulled Matthew into his arms, glad to finally have his arms free so he could do this. If he had to comfort his Birdie, then that's what he would do.

_You said it again._

He ignored the voice in his head, ignored the smirk he could imagine, the teasing laughter from Old Fritz. So what? Matthew needed him. Birdie needed him. He had to be that guy now, that nice guy no one ever thought of when they thought of Prussia.

"Tell me a story?" He whispered, falling back on his typical distraction idea.

When Matthew curled in against him, he should have felt pity or been upset to see his Birdie so broken up. But for some reason, there was a warmth spreading through his chest and it wasn't a sensual warmth. It caught him off guard and yet reminded him of the feeling of being needed, that feeling he had found himself lacking for years. He was needed. This was important.

"I-I don't know any stories," Canada mumbled, clinging to Gilbert's shirt.

He gave a halfway grimace. "Then uh..." His eyes roamed the area before settling on staring down at Matthew's shaking form. "Tell me about someone or something that makes you happy. Just...talk to me."

There was a pause, then, "I miss Kumajiro."

Gilbert blinked. "The polar bear?"

_Really? A fucking bear..._

_Oh and you don't have an attachment to a small yellow chick..._

_Sh-shut up! Chicks are hot! _

"Oui. I've had him for as long as I can remember."

Bringing up his own few memories of the bear, Gilbert felt his eye twitch. "Was he always obsessed with biting people?"

As his hand reached up and started petting through Matthew's hair, Canada shook his head. "N-No. In fact, you're the only one he's ever bitten."

"Figures," Prussia mumbled.

He sighed and then seemed to notice what his hand was doing. He froze, letting his hand hover in the air just above the Canadian's head while he fought the overpowering blush.

_What the hell am I doing?_

"Is-Is something wrong?"

The blush insisted on staying on his face but thankfully Canada wasn't looking up at him to notice. "Ah – no, nothing's wrong," he coughed.

"Oh, okay," Birdie said, lifting his head and smiling when he met Prussia's eyes before turning around to lean back against him. "I miss pancakes."

Feeling his stomach growl, Gilbert let his chin lean down to rest against his Birdie's hair. "So do I..."

"Then again, I just miss food in general," Canada continued, having his stomach growl as if in response to Prussia's.

"Yeah, food," Gilbert grumbled, closing his eyes in order to imagine it all. "And beer."

"Maple syrup..." Birdie continued with a sigh. "And I also miss skating."

With a blink, Prussia tilted his head. "Skating?"

Canada nodded, "Yeah, Alfred and I used to always go ice-skating together. But after this mess with everyone's economy..." he trailed off in a sigh.

Prussia grimaced at the very idea of skating around on ice. "Ice-skating. You must be insane." He shivered, never having liked the idea of being stuck on the ice. Ever since he was little, he'd had a fear of it, like something bad had happened in his past.

Matthew shrugged. "To each his own. I wish we could have gone once at least, before all this happened."

Squeezing his eyes shut, Gilbert took a breath and put his own fears to the side to offer his Birdie some hope. "Hey," he gulped. "When we get out of here, if it's cold enough, that's the first thing we do, okay?"

"R-Really? You mean it?"

_Yeah. It's worth it if he's going to -_

"That makes me happy," Canada said, settling back against Prussia much less tense than he had been.

_Totally worth it._

Gilbert managed a smile at seeing his Birdie's reaction. "Good. I like it when you're happy."

"I -" Matthew paused and looked down and then mumbled, "I like it when you're happy, too."

He blinked. Now that was new. Since when had anyone else ever cared... Tilting his head, he cracked a grin. "But I'm always happy."

To his delight, Matthew was quick at the response. "I guess it's because you're so awesome."

"Got that right," Gilbert chuckled, letting his laughter flow out of him and bounce around the stone prison. "Kesese~" It was familiar and it didn't sound so forced this time. Because, hey, he'd been in prison cells and cold basements and locked in rooms...he'd been in this scene before; and it was a hell of a lot better having someone with him.

Whatever happened now, he wasn't alone. And if he could keep his Birdie distracted, keep him from thinking about the situation, then things would be even better. Because if Prussia wasn't going to freak out, he'd be damned if he let someone else worry while he was here. Maybe he was just playing protector again, reminiscent of the days of raising a child, or maybe he cared about the awkward man currently laying against.

It didn't matter right now. What mattered was a very simple priority list. Survive. Day by day, survive. And search for a way out. The others may be attempting to rescue again, but Prussia was not one to rely on others to save him, especially not now. So, he would survive, and he would find a way out. Or at the very least, he would set his Birdie free. He could do that much, right?

He was pulled out of his thoughts when Canada started to move, tensing suddenly and trying to pull away. "S-sorry... I didn't realize I was -"

At first, Prussia blinked, not understanding, but then he smirked a little and wrapped his arms around the Canadian, pulling the man back to where he had been. Close and comfortable. "Tch. You don't have to move."

"U-Um, okay..." Matthew froze at first but slowly seemed to relax, as if he was actually liking the position. "You're warm," he breathed.

Prussia immediately felt his face heat, not sure what to think of the statement. He hadn't heard such a description used outside of sex in such a long time...And he wasn't exactly expecting Canada to respond so easily, cuddling against him like a little puppy.

"Ah -" he coughed, cleared his throat. "Right...warm..."

Canada didn't respond further, instead sighing and switching the subject when his stomach made a noise. "They're going to starve us, aren't they?"

Prussia inwardly cursed, wishing he could get the guy to stop thinking of all the pessimistic thoughts. Seriously, though, it was starting to make _him_ unhappy. "Probably," he muttered, frowning as he leaned back against the wall, resting the back of his head against the stone, loosening his grip on his Birdie as he closed his eyes. "Takes an awful long time for it to start affecting the country, though."

_Because that's what the assholes are really wanting. They want to destroy our countries. _

He growled but continued. "Economy, terrorist attack, war...those things are the country problems affecting us, but it to make it work the other way around – if that's their aim – takes a hell of a long time." A morbid thought entered his mind, recalling another rather important detail. He groaned. "And who knows what'll happen to me."

_Will I actually starve and die like a human? I don't have a country to affect so... would I die? _

Death was a subject he had grown rather used to over the years. He was almost expecting it at any moment. He had known other countries to fade and disappear when they went out of existence. But he had stayed here. Stayed alive. Stayed the same. If he were to get shot, or be a victim in a plane crash, or starve...would he die?

Not that he was worried about leaving this world. He didn't fear the idea of disappearing.

_Oh really?_

_Okay, okay, maybe a little, but..._

_It's him, isn't it? You really are growing attached, aren't you?_

_...so what if I am?_

What would happen to Canada if he did die? He could just see it. The man would blame himself, more than likely, what with his not-so-optimistic attitude about his own self. Prussia couldn't do that; he didn't want to leave Matthew alone.

He blinked, mouthing the words as they ran through his head again.

He didn't want to leave Matthew...

_Oh..._

"I don't want my people to suffer because of me!" Canada snapped, trying to move again, as if he had new found energy to fight back.

Prussia groaned, holding tighter, trying to keep his Birdie still. "Relax. Didn't I just say it would take a long ass time?"

"But it _will_ happen! Just because it'll take a while, doesn't mean -"

"No it won't happen," Gilbert said. When Canada froze, he knew he had his attention. "It won't happen," he restated. "We won't be here long enough."

"What makes you so sure?" Matthew snapped again, his obvious lack of optimism making him start to act hysterical. "We've been moved, Prussia! No one is ever going to find us now!"

This was where he couldn't take it anymore. This was where Prussia grit his teeth and acted without thinking. This was where he let go of his grip on Matthew only to pull the man down so that he could look into his eyes. So what if he had Canada laying down in his arms now? He couldn't exactly twist the man around what with his injured leg, so this would have to do.

"So what?" He asked, keeping his voice hard but not loud. He had to be assertive, serious. "Are you going to let them break you? Are you going to let them win?" He leaned over until he was right in Canada's face. "No. You won't. You can't. Not while I'm still here. And not while you still have something to fight for."

"B-but..." There was a moment of silence in which both of them breathed into each other's face, in which they stared in each other's eyes and didn't blush or turn away. It was a quick moment, but it lasted a lifetime. "...how will we ever get out of here...?"

At this, Prussia sighed and pulled back, pressing against the stone wall behind him again. He brought a hand up to his head to run through his hair as Canada was now holding himself up, well, sitting up and facing him, but still... He had to offer hope. Had to give something. "I might be able to get you out," he mumbled, feeling like he was lying even though the chance was technically there. "I don't think there's anything but snow behind this wall which means we work at it until we find a weak point...choose the right time of day or night...and you can get out. Easy enough."

He almost winced when Canada's eyes widened, the blue-violet looking so hopeful. "Wha-what? You can – you can really get us out of here?"

He barked a laugh. "Sure, if they keep doing the same things." Now he was going to ramble. "They're actually quite inexperienced at this kind of thing." Insult the enemy. Check. Give hope to Birdie. Check. Tactically leave out the part about being chained up? Check.

"W-wow. We can get out of here. We can..." Something seemed wrong as Matthew started swaying. "Go..." Yeah. He was definitely swaying now. Eyes closing, too. "...home..."

"H-hey! Don't pass out on me!" Prussia snapped, reaching out to grab hold of either of Canada's arms.

"But I'm so...tired..."

"Seriously, Birdie! Don't pass out!"

Canada's head lolled and he mumbled. "...what? ...why not?"

Gilbert would have rolled his eyes if he wasn't so worried. Falling asleep? Not a bad thing. Passing out? Yeah, that could be a bad thing. "Birdie, please," he whispered, his hands moving to cup Matthew's face, glad that he could now face him without all the awkwardness. "Remember how you kept me awake?"

The blue-violet eyes opened rather quickly and the eyebrows twitched, as if confused. "By...kissing?"

"Yeah," Prussia stopped and cleared his throat when he realized how breathy his voice sounded. "Remember _why_ you wanted to keep me awake?"

_Keep him talking maybe? _

_I don't know! Just something! I mean – he can't pass out on me! That's just not fair!_

_Why? 'Cause he wouldn't let you do it?_

"I...didn't want to...be alone?"

Gilbert felt his face heat up. Being alone...right...the whole reason this situation was easier to deal with than what life had been like with Russia. He wasn't alone. As long as he had someone to talk to, someone to keep him occupied...

"R-right," he stuttered, having to shake the notion away. "But there's more to it than that. I mean – ah – shit – I'm better at action than words anyway."

And then he gave in and pulled Canada's lips to his own, hoping the kiss would wake his Birdie up. It was a little unnerving when he could feel the chill through the kiss. Matthew's lips were ice cold. He was frozen. And yet Prussia had been ignoring the cold. It definitely wasn't something he'd been expecting.

He opened his mouth and Canada responded in kind. He inserted his tongue and Matthew responded by moaning, making a shiver travel down Prussia's spine. Then hands were wrapping around his neck, clinging, hugging, pulling him closer.

...and then a snicker interrupted the moment. "Well, isn't that lovely. What, you couldn't get any sleep?"

Prussia intended to break the kiss for only a second. Long enough to say, "Fuck off," but Canada had a different reaction, pulling back with wide eyes and shaking a little.

The human standing by the open door snickered again and Gilbert turned a glare to the blond haired green-eyed oh-that-guy-is-definitely-familiar. "Aw ~ Did I interrupt something?"

_Which one is this? I can remember some of their names and nationalities, but I can't think -_

"Keh, I knew you guys were freaks but this is just adding insult to injury."

_A hah. I remember now. The 'freaks' insult just gives it away. He's the stupid American...and the major asshole around here...what did they call him again? Come on, Gil, you know this! It might be important! You're better at memorizing faces and names and picking up on all the information these idiots have been spilling. _

"Insult to injury?" He repeated, seeing as Matthew wasn't going to speak. "And still calling us freaks?" He rolled his eyes. "You definitely were sheltered as a child, weren't you?"

Ricky! That was what they called him. He'd have to remember it; he could probably get America to find the asshole and imprison him for something. Or did Americans need due process and have laws against indefinite detention? It shouldn't matter, though, these people were obviously enemies of the country – enemies of the whole fucking world.

Blond haired American idiot Ricky glared right back at him. "And what's that supposed to mean?" When Gilbert just shrugged, taking the question as hypothetical, the blond haired asshole waved his arm in the air and pushed it to the side. "And here I thought I could give you something to eat."

_Oh. Fuck._

Canada's eyes widened immediately, looking to all the world like an excited puppy at the very mention of food. "Really?"

_Ah great. What's it gonna cost us? _

Prussia resolved to keep his mouth to shut, waiting to see what the human had in mind, but Matthew would do no such thing. "P-please..."

_Oh fuck, why are you begging them? Why?_

"Just a little bit of food...I'll eat anything..."

_Why...Damn it...And after I tried so hard to bolster your courage and pride. _

He did not like the grin on the human's face, but he was expecting it. "Oh, I'll give you food." _Sure you will. What's the price, huh? _"As soon as _he_ apologizes," Ricky said, emphasizing his point by pointing at Prussia.

"What the hell?" Gilbert growled, having expected something completely unrelated. "Apologize? To you?" Like he was going to do something so degrading! "Hah! Just give him the food and leave us in peace."

In response, Ricky simply scoffed. "As I expected. Fine, I'll leave you two to whatever you were doing."

And then the asshole turned around and started walking...and Matthew's upset cry crushed a little bit of Prussia's prideful spirit. "Wait! Please! I'm starving!"

_Stop it! Stop it, damn it. What did I just tell you? Don't let them control you! Don't let them win! It's not that big of a deal to go hungry. It won't hurt anything. It'll just be a little painful for a while and then you get used to it..._

But hearing Canada's pleas really were starting to wear down his own defiance. _Damn it_. He caught the smirk and the condescending look in the human's green eyes. "I'm waiting," Ricky said, gesturing toward the close-to-tears Matthew.

_Fuck. Why does he do this? He should be stronger than this! It doesn't add up! I can't – I - _

He sighed and clenched his hands into fists before mumbling a whispered, "I'm sorry."

"What was that? I couldn't hear you."

_You. Fucking. Dick._

"I said I apologize, damn it! Just give him the fucking food and go away!"

Ricky smirked wider. "That's all I wanted to hear." The asshole of a human left the room shortly and returned with two bowls of rice. Setting the bowls on the floor in front of them, he managed to meet Prussia's eye, looking so incredibly full of himself that it took all of Gilbert's energy not to punch the dude in the face right there. "Here. Enjoy."

Even before the guy was out of the room, Canada was devouring one of the bowls of food. And Prussia was resisting to the urge to yell at his Birdie for being so fucking pathetic. He had to repeat to himself how Canada wasn't used to this; Canada had experienced a mostly easy life; most of the bad things that had happened to him had been early on...and, besides, he couldn't expect everyone to be as bad ass as him.

Still...

...it did bug him.

Crossing his arms and mumbling under his breath, Prussia resolved to watch Canada eat, wanting to make sure Matthew got as much as he needed. He would let Birdie eat all of it if he so wanted, even if Gilbert was kind of hungry, too. After a few minutes, however, Canada suddenly doubled over in pain, wrapping arms around his stomach.

It took a moment for the meaning to process, but when it did Prussia felt his eyes widen. "That...fucking! Birdie! Shit, cough it up or something. Throw it up! Fuck no, this can't be happening."

_Poison._

_Fucking..._

_I should have known..._

_I should have fucking known..._

_Why did I give in so easily? Why did I let it happen? Why did I not check to make sure? Ah, fuck, why didn't I think of it?_

~!~

_A/N: ...I feel like this chapter was rushed and so much and yet nothing. I feel like it needs more. A lot more. But I couldn't think of what to put in here and I was getting so tired and frustrated and yeah, finals are over, but now I have to get back into the swing of writing and...well...whatever, I guess...Also, yes, cliffhanger._


	19. Chapter 19

**Author Notes****:**

-Shh, I'm not updating a chapter of my fanfic when I should be doing NaNoWriMo; I don't know what you're talking about. Still, my story is going well and I'm catching up pretty fast now that I'm on break. I figured I'd reward myself for doing 4000+ words a day on my NaNo novel by writing up a chapter of my most favoritist fanfic project ever! And to be nice to all those fans, because of that terrible cliffhanger.

-Oh and by the way, the humans aren't all one-sided but it does take us a while to reach the point of actually turning it into more than a cliché story, so for now they're mostly under-developed. (But it does change and I'm trying to work with what I have ~)

-More PruCan! More, more, I say!

-Would you rather short chapters and faster updates or longer chapters...or just however things happen to flow?

**One Shot Gift Fic****:**

-How many times have I offered this and gotten no response? I dunno. Still up for grabs though. 200th review is coming in close.

~!~

Chapter 19

~!~

Canada groaned again, bending over into a ball and unconsciously rolling towards Prussia's warm body. The pain in his stomach was getting to be unbearable. If he wasn't a country, he probably would have keeled over dead now. He groaned again at the thought. What if he did die? What if his country collapsed and he disappeared? All because he was an idiot and got himself captured here...

"Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck..." he could hear Prussia's curses as those hands touched him, as if they were trying to offer some kind of comfort. "Birdie..."

He didn't know what to make of Prussia's worry. Did the ex-nation care about him? Or did he just not like seeing anyone in pain at all? Or was he worried about another country? Surely it wasn't more – or was it? Gilbert had kissed him. Willingly. More than once now.

Pain attacked him again and he whimpered. A new voice grated through his ears. Another mortal. He could tell it was a Canadian, too. _Why? Why would my own people do this to me?_

"You like it? It's something a friend of mine put together. Naturally, only I have the cure." There was a pause in which Canada groaned, unable to look up and see what the new human was showing Prussia. "You just have to tell me everything you know about the other nation representatives, especially about the one for France, seeing as we're going after him next."

Matthew noticed that Gilbert's hands clenched up, fingers digging into his clothes. He welcomed the close touch, but he also wanted to snap at Prussia to not give any information. Not for him. Not because of him. _Please, don't..._

"You're asking me to betray one of my best friends," Gilbert said, his voice sounding a little shaky, which made Matthew cringe because he knew the man was worried over him.

"Funny how he got the poisoned one," the Canadian said. "Would have been better if it was you, because then he would have spilled all the information we asked for like the little rat he is."

Matthew cringed again at hearing this told to Prussia. He could even feel the albino's hands dig tighter into his clothes, like he was angry. Or frustrated. Or disappointed. Of course Prussia would be mad to learn about Canada's weakness here. He wasn't used to such predicaments. When other people were threatened...what else was he supposed to do but give in?

"Oh yes, it would have been much better if it had been me," he could hear Gilbert mutter. "Nice to know the other one is clean, though."

_Ah, he really is quite awesome, isn't he? Gathering information from the ones who have captured us..._

The growl from the new human almost echoed in the room. "So are you going to tell us where 'France' lives or not?"

Canada tried to tell Prussia not to; he tried to reach out, squeaking before he could hold it back even though he was trying to hold back the pain. A hand clasped with his own, a warm inviting hand, holding to him tightly and shaking. Shaking. Why was Prussia shaking?

"...Versailles..."

_No! No, why? Why give in for me? _

"He lives around the palace."

_Why, Gilbert? Why did you tell them? I thought you were strong! Is it me? Did you give in because of me?_

"Good boy," came the human.

Matthew could feel Prussia tense up at those words and he wondered why such a phrase made the strong albino react so. But then the edge of a bottle was against his lips and he heard the command, "Drink."

_He did do it for me! He ratted out his friend to save me! Maple, why am I being such the weakling right now? Why does he like me?_

Still, the pain was killing him and the antidote was right there, so it wasn't exactly difficult to do as Prussia commanded. He drank the liquid and then fell into the man's arms, no longer caring about how close he was or what it meant to be cuddling up against the crazy albino ex-nation. He just felt like sleeping or passing out and once the medicine started to work, he did just that.

~!~

Prussia groaned when Canada passed out in his lap, shifting positions in an effort to get as comfortable as possible without moving Matthew too much. He leaned back against the stone wall, resting his head, letting Canada be curled up in his lap. Running fingers through the man's hair, he allowed himself to try to forget the sick feelings in the pit of his stomach, the sick disgusting feelings that reminded him how he had ratted out his own friend. He was going to get France captured...in order to keep Canada from pain.

Since when did he place this guy above his own Bad Touch Trio buddies?

"Gil..."

He blinked when Matthew spoke, taking a moment to realize the man was mumbling in his sleep. Then he smiled softly. "Having a dream about me, huh?"

"W-wait – I'm Canada, remember?"

Prussia felt his body tense, muttering under his breath, "...what kind of dream?"

He stared when a tear came out of Canada's eye, sleeping though he was. "I'm right here...Prussia..."

_I don't get it. _

Blinking several times, he stared down at his Birdie, trying to figure out what in the world he could be dreaming about. "Why would you..." Then it clicked and he frowned.

The Canadian whimpered, his body curling in on itself. "I-I'm not America."

With a sigh, Prussia pushed hair back from Matthew's face and wiped away that lone tear. "Really? Oh, Biride, you and America look nothing alike. How could I ever make that mistake? I feel kind of insulted..."

Thankfully, the man seemed to relax at the touch, starting to smile a little in his sleep. "Gil..."

_That's better._

Now that the most immediate problems had been solved, Gilbert let his eyes close, ignoring the growl from his stomach. He would save the rest of the food for Canada. Since the second bowl would be poison-free, he would rather let his Birdie eat something than starve. He could wait. He could suffer. He'd be damned if he let Matthew starve now.

When the Canadian turned and nuzzled against him like an animal or lover looking for warmth, Prussia felt his face heat up. He opened his eyes and cleared his throat as Matthew murmured his name again. Canada smiled in his sleep and Gilbert gulped, realizing the cute actions were affecting him. Letting out a sigh, he moved his hand to Canada's back and started rubbing softly, making little circular motions, closing his eyes again in an effort to attempt to sleep.

A few moments passed and lips pecked against his cheek, making his eyes shoot open, finding the Canadian changing positions and curling back up against him, close and warm. "Night, Gil."

His face was blushing madly as he blinked several times, still trying to process what had just happened. "N-night."

"Hey, Gil, promise me you'll never forget about me."

_Well, that's an easy promise at least._

_Still doing that honor thing where you won't break your word?_

_Hey, it was my last promise to you, wasn't it? Not to ever break a promise?_

The voice of Fritz didn't respond to him, but it didn't matter. He could give this little promise to his Birdie. It was simple enough. "I promise. I don't see how I could ever forget you."

He watched the smile grace Canada's lips. "I'm glad out of all the nations, you're the one who remembered me."

"I don't see how everyone else has such a problem with it," Prussia yawned.

"Merci...Prussia..."

Leaning back against the wall, keeping his hands still, Gilbert finally managed to fall asleep without interruption this time.

...at least until a certain chirping sound from the other side of the wall woke him up. A very familiar chirp. Very familiar, insulting chirp.

He couldn't help but grin. "I should have known."

A loud tweet answered him. _'Why haven't you broken out yet you dumbass? They're all worried sick!'_

He chuckled. "Oh fuck yeah, now you can lead the others here! Kesese~ You're better than a hound dog."

"_I don't know whether to take offense to that or not. I'm a bird, not a dog."_

Hearing the noise, Canada shifted in his sleep, sitting up. "Hm? What's going on, Gil?"

After telling his bird to find the others, he focused his attention on Canada, grinning like a mad man. "Gilbird found us. Told ya he was awesome like me."

Rubbing at his eyes, Canada pulled himself up. "Really?"

"Hells yeah! It won't be long now!"

As Canada started shuffling around as if he were trying to get off of him, he seemed to notice the bowl of un-eaten food still sitting next to them. He froze and Prussia frowned. "What's that still doing here?"

Feeling his stomach growl at the reminder of food, Gilbert winced. "It's the unpoisoned one. I figured you might want some good food when you woke up."

"B-But what about you? Aren't you hungry, though?"

Crossing his arms, Prussia turned his head. "Bah! I'm fine; not even hungry yet." Of course, his stupid stomach had to go and betray him.

"You should eat," he heard Canada mumble. "It's meant for you anyway."

Which he had to completely object to, shaking his head. "Nope. Not happening." When his stomach made noise once again, he turned his head to growl back at it. Then he looked back up to face his Birdie. "I'll taste-test everything from here on out, but it's all yours."

Canada's eyes widened and he shook his head, as if he were going to be the stubborn one. "No! You need to eat, too! If anything, it's more important that _you_ eat!"

"Oh? And what makes you say that?" He asked, raising an eyebrow, thinking there was no such argument.

"Because I still have a country, Gil!" He tensed at the point blank reminder. "You'll starve to death like any normal mortal, but my country has to fall before I can die."

_Any...normal...mortal..._

_Am I really?_

Keeping his arms crossed, he stayed silent. His fingers started digging into his arms, but he faced away from Canada and refused to speak, refused to say anything back. _Like any normal mortal...Fuck..._

Meanwhile, Canada seemed to realize what he had said, slapping a hand over his mouth and mumbling. "I-I'm sorry, I just don't want to lose you."

Something touched against his heart at the comment. The idea that someone cared about losing him. Not to mention, his stomach was making it really hard to stay stubborn about this. And Canada did seem like he was about to cry. Damn him and that face and such meaningful words and -

"Oh, all right!" He exclaimed, throwing his arms up in defeat. "But I'll only eat half of it." At least he wouldn't give in completely.

His Birdie smiled at him and leaned in close, hugging against him, nuzzling into his chest. "Merci, Gilbert."

He blushed, finding this position awkward and yet enjoyable. He still wasn't used to such touchy-feely stuff that didn't go anywhere. He reached out for the food, and found that with Canada on top of him, the bowl was kind of out of reach, making him curse when his stomach growled again.

"S-Sorry," Canada mumbled, awkwardly moving off of Prussia, allowing the albino ex-nation to grab at the food bowl and dig in.

"Tch. Why do you apologize so much?" He asked in between mouthfuls.

To which Matthew simply shrugged and looked away. "Because there's always so much to apologize for."

"Keh, no there's not," he said, handing out the bowl of rice to Matthew, having chomped his way through half of the rice already.

Canada sighed at him. "Well, some of us actually have consciences," he said while taking the bowl and almost hesitantly eating a spoonful of rice.

To this, Prussia stuck his tongue out, noting the veiled insult. _Hey, I have a conscience._

_Yeah, me._

_Yeah! _

_And you're crazy and talk to it all the time._

_...Sh-shut up!_

_And you tell me to shut up all the time, too._

…

_It's the truth._

_...Verdamt..._

He was pulled out of his own inward mind argument when he heard the sound of sniffling, looking over to see Canada fighting back tears. Again. He groaned. "Oh, what now?"

He really was getting quite sick of this. A part of him didn't even care when Canada flinched away at his tone, staring at the floor. "I-I'm sorry. I was just thinking of Alfred and Kuma."

_Ugh. Your brother and the bear? Verdamt, I should be enough! And I'm right here!_

_Don't say that to him..._

_I'm not gonna say that out loud, are you crazy?_

_No, but you are._

_...Seriously, shut up now._

He forced the inward voices to the side and focused on his Birdie. "Don't worry. They'll be on their way soon, depending on how fast Gilbird flies."

"Y-You really think so?"

"Of course! Why wouldn't they?"

There was a pause in which Canada continued to stare at the ground. "But...what if we're moved and Gilbird can't find us?"

Feeling his eyes narrow, Prussia scowled a bit. He seriously was tired of this defeatist attitude. "Hey, don't underestimate my yellow chick. He flew around the world and found me in Canada in the first place. And for all you know, that stupid bear is with him, too."

Finally, Birdie looked up at him. "You really think so?"

Forcing a grin, Prussia nodded. "Yeah, I bet those two can work together...maybe..." he frowned, remembering how the bear had nearly chomped his yellow chick into food. Feeling his eyebrow twitch, he scowled and muttered under his breath. "...stupid bear..."

"He's really a nice bear," Canada said with a sigh and then a smile. "He's probably just jealous."

"Kesese~ Of course. Everyone is jealous of Prussia." When Canada smiled and leaned against him again, Gilbert reached out and put a hand on his Birdie's back, rubbing him softly. "There, no more crying allowed."

"Oui. No more crying."

"Good," he said with a sigh, closing his eyes yet again. "Now maybe I can finally sleep."

"Y-yeah," Matthew murmured. "You do that."

~!~

_A/N: Okay, okay, so it's an extremely short chapter, and I rushed through it again, but I'm getting way too excited about stuff coming up. I just want to get there already! Ah!_

_Anyway, yeah. Short chapter is short. NaNoWriMo novel calls to me. And maybe I'll update again before the break is over with. I should. I still have a week. And here, it's a chapter without a cliffhanger. Have some hope and cuddles instead! _


	20. Chapter 20

**Author Notes****:**

- Break time! Now I can write to my heart's content...as long as I get that practice time in haha!

- Hey, Chapter 20. I guess we'll have about 30? That seems to be an average length for me at least...

- Romano point of view? Why, yes, I do believe I will...

- We do have a point of view of a human in here. Eh. Something I added. A little spur of the moment decision that didn't exist in the role play. Usually these ideas hit and refuse to leave until I do something, so hey, why not? (Natasha Stravinsky is my own creation, even though I did have a moment thinking it was Belarus's name but it's not so -phew-)

~!~

One Month

Chapter 20

~!~

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

Romano stared ahead into the darkness as Spain drove them through the Canadian winterland. Sitting in the front seat, he fought the seething urge to turn around and beat up the ditz in the backseat. They had – well, technically Spain had – tied up the stranger, the government worker, whatever he was, and through private jet and special connections between the Spanish government and Canadian government... Well, whatever, the ditz was basically strapped in the car now, and gagged because he had been pissing Romano off ever since their journey had begun. They were on their way to Canada's house and he didn't want to hear another damn word from the bastard.

All this talk of what they would be doing to the nations. How the people really wanted to be a harmonious government and not several separate nations. How the majority of people wanted peace and didn't want to separate anymore. How the majority of people were sick and tired of the nation building.

Europe was already working toward more unity, using a common euro for their money source. But the movement had discovered the existence of the humanized nations, and they were trying to speed up the process. They wanted the whole world to ignore race and ethnicity. They wanted the world to be one Earth instead of multiple nations.

Which pissed Romano off greatly. The ideas sounded great and wonderful and perfectly naïve, but the fact that a movement had started gathering power...

Hell, he was only part of a nation and it still pissed him off. Maybe it scared him too. After all, if they were killed – if they _could_ be killed – then the nation would disappear...if they were all killed...someone had to come out on top. Someone. Or would a new one be born?

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

His foot continued to tap against the floor, poking at the edge of the seat, creating a hollow sound as it hit the plastic edgings. Keeping his arms crossed, because the air in this car couldn't heat up fast enough, Romano kept his mouth shut and focused on moving forward.

Even Spain was being quiet now, focused. It was like they were heading into a war front. It felt like they were going to be getting ready for battle soon. The tension. The air. The snow flurries making it hard to see where they were even heading...

It was pissing him off.

And then Antonio slowed and stopped the car. Sitting back against the seat, Romano turned his head to look out his window, noting the yellow glow of lights coming through the snow.

"This should be it," the tomato bastard said, turning the car off. "I'll get Fernando."

Ah yes, the government bastard had a name. Romano had almost forgotten. The ditz really was a Ditz. Shaking his head again at the very absurdity, Lovino climbed out of the car, slamming the door shut before racing up to the front door of the Canadian house, lifting an arm to shield his eyes from the snow flurries. While Spain got situated behind him with the tied up ditz...and his battle axe as well...Romano slammed his hand against the doorbell, growling because the door wasn't open. To be honest, he should have known it wouldn't be.

Thankfully, it wasn't long before the door was opened and he found himself staring face to face at a certain American idiot. Unhappy, narrowed eyes glared back at him. "Who invited you?" To his surprise, the loud mouthed American actually pulled out a small clipboard from his bomber jacket, scanning it like he was looking for names allowed into a special club. "Nope. Don't see your name on the list. Who are you again?"

Clenching his hands and gnashing his teeth, Romano growled at the asshole, so sure that had been a slight against his true nation holding status, seeing as Feliciano was actually the one in charge of their country and he had become just a helper in the shadows.

Before he could shout at the bastard, the Englishman appeared, smacking America on the head. "Wanker." As Alfred F. Jones complained like a child about Arthur Kirkland hitting him for his absurdity, Romano kept his mouth shut and watched as the Englishman's eyes moved from him to Spain to the prisoner. "So, this is the open book Italy told us about?"

"Si, si, this bastard," he answered, pointing to Spain and then Fernando, "scared the shit out of this bastard when he cut his buddy in half. But that doesn't matter right now. Where is my _fratello_?"

His brother was the only thing important on his mind right now. The safety of his weaker brother. His stupid idiot of a clumsy fool brother... that he still felt like protecting...that he still felt overshadowed by...that he should hate above all else for being so much cuter, so much more efficient even with his clumsiness, so much of a better nation representative... But still, Romano was not about to let some nation-napping assholes even lay a hand on his _fratello_ and the thought of the potato bastard protecting his family pissed him off.

"Oh, Spanish dude, that's fucking awesome! Like, seriously, I love the battle axe!" America exclaimed, no longer rubbing his head.

And Antonio had to laugh cheerfully...of course... "Oh, well, they broke into my house. Someone should have warned them how stupid that was..."

Just as he was rolling his eyes and opening his mouth to ask again where his brother was, England finally commented on the only information Romano currently cared about. With a sigh and a shake of his head, Arthur pointed back into the house. "Italy's with Germany in the kitchen."

Although England did turn to talk to Spain, Romano tuned it out completely. Of course his brother would be with Germany. Still, it made him growl. He didn't particularly like the potato bastard. He just put up with him because his _fratello_ had such a fascination with the guy. It pissed him off.

Then again, a lot of things pissed him off.

~!~

Germany was in the process of sitting down at the kitchen table when the Italian brother walked in. He had just set a mug of hot chocolate in front of Feliciano and was _just_ getting ready to sip on his own when the loud, angry, Italian decided to grace the scene.

Italy was the first to speak upon hearing the stomping footsteps of his brother. "Ve ~"

Granted, it wasn't much. Feliciano had been rather quiet since the latest incident, which wasn't normal and had Ludwig worried beyond belief. In fact, there was so much that Ludwig was currently worried about...in order to keep himself from breaking things he had resorted to calming himself by cleaning things and making cocoa. He certainly wasn't going to open up the beer in Canada's fridge – that much was certain.

So, his OCD habits had kicked in and he had resorted to other, simpler things. At least the house was much cleaner now. It had been a mess after the fire fight. Some things were still broken, like the windows (though those had been boarded up for now), but the mess of having several guys in the same house...that part he could handle. That part he had cleaned.

"What. The. Hell." Romano's statement was to be expected, so Ludwig simply looked up at him as he sat down.

While wrapping his hands around his own mug, he kept his tone straight edged and focused. Calm. Serious. "Would you like a cup of cocoa, too?"

"Why the hell are you guys making hot cocoa?" Romano snapped, his scowl apparent, his eyes glaring. That was to be expected, too. "We're in a crises right now!"

In response, Germany rolled his eyes. Of course he would go and state the obvious. Did the guy not realize that there were lulls even in tense situations? Seeing as it was pointless to actually answer the question, Ludwig decided to ignore him and take a sip of the wonderful hot chocolate. Coffee would have been nice. Beer might have been better. But he had neither here, and he needed something, so this was wonderful.

"Veneziano!" Romano had apparently moved on as well, rushing over to be beside Italy. "What did I tell you about letting your guard down?"

Taking another sip of hot cocoa, Germany frowned when he saw Italy flinch back from the question. Yes, his Italian was not in the best of shape. Something had seriously affected him. Something _he_ had done, of that Ludwig was sure, but there was so much happening right now that he was unsure how to handle it. There was so much he had to think about now. So much bothering him. So many problems. And one very real, very difficult issue looming over them all.

"We _were_ waiting on you to arrive, so I was taking a little break to think," Germany supplied, catching the glare. "Is there a problem?"

While Feli seemed to snap out of his daze and reach for the cup set before him, Romano turned on Germany immediately and spat at him. "Yes there's a problem! You're still way too touchy-feely with my _fratello_."

Ludwig rolled his eyes. "I do not think that should be your current concern. Those bastards have my brother. They almost got yours." He stared ahead, focusing on a point on the wall but letting his eyes flash as he fought to control his urge to crush the mug in his hand. "I want to kill them. All of them." Keeping his mouth set, he turned back to Romano. "What are you going to do?"

From the corner of his eye, he could see Feli flinch back as if the serious tone to his voice was enough to set Italy on edge. Romano looked just as startled, eyes widening as if seeing him for the first time. The shock only lasted a second, though, because Romano soon narrowed his eyes and took on his serious aura.

"I'm going to protect my _fratello_ until all of this is over."

"Well then," Ludwig said, "We have the same motivation." He lifted his cup of cocoa and took another sip. "Now, what information did you manage to gather on the current whereabouts of -"

"Ah, that is the problem." Interrupted by a certain Spainard, Ludwig flicked his eyes over to the doorway, noting the fact that Antonio was leaning back against the wall casually, as if he had been there for a while. When green eyes met his, the Spanish nation continued. "The guy doesn't seem to know the exact location and after he was spilling everything else so easily, I vote to believe him."

Romano's loud voice cut through the air. "How long have you been standing there, bastard?" The Italian's mannerisms took on a louder spin whenever he was around Spain.

With a shrug, Antonio replied. "Eh, long enough." As he moved over to the table, his eyes seemed to light up upon noticing the hot chocolate mugs. "Oooo, cocoa sounds like a wonderful idea."

Ludwig watched as Romano rolled his eyes. "Why am I always surrounded by idiots?"

Before he could comment on it, however, the polar bear he recognized as Canada's came into the room. And there was a certain familiar yellow bird sitting on its head. Out of the corner of his eye, Ludwig could see Feliciano move forward a little bit in his chair, eyes wide. When the bird lifted up and flew in front of Germany, he blinked, only getting more confused when it started to tweet loudly, flying out of the room and then flying back it, constantly, repeating itself.

Furrowing his brow, Ludwig stared at the strange yellow bird. "That's _bruder's _bird...What is it...?"

"Stupid bird's having a seizure or something," Romano scoffed.

Seeing Feliciano tilt his head to the side in confusion, Ludwig moved his gaze to his lover instead of the bird, curious to what Italy was thinking. "Is it...trying to tell us something...?"

As if Feli had said the magic words, Gilbert's bird – didn't he nickname it Gilbird or something strange? - moved in front of the Italian and chirped. Then it chirped again, louder, as if waiting for him to do something, as if the louder it chirped the more likely it was for them to understand.

From behind him, Antonio stopped stirring his hot cocoa and made a comment. "You know, I've noticed something about that bird..." With everyone hanging on his words, the Spanish man took a sip of his cocoa and then sighed into the silence. "It has an uncanny knack for finding Prussia-"

Germany jumped up immediately, his eyes wide. The bird _did_ always hang around his brother. Maybe it was more than just a simple pet. With the way Gilbert treated it, maybe there was more to this creature.

"How do you know that?"

Green eyes stared back at him and the man shrugged, looking way too care free for Ludwig's taste. "Ah, it's just that you usually see the two together, don't you?" While Spain was talking, the yellow chick started fluttering around his head instead of chirping at Italy. "And he doesn't keep it in a cage or anything so taking it with him on the airplane would have been impossible...which means Gil's bird must have flown from Europe to here in the first place, and how else would it know where to go?"

As the pieces began to fit together in his mind, Ludwig could hear his Feli say, "You don't think that it knows where they are, do you?"

At Italy's question, the chick rushed over to be in front of him, flying until it was right in front of Feliciano's eyes. They watched as the yellow chick flew up, then down, then up, then down again. Funnily enough, Italy was so close that he ended up nodding as he followed the chick's movement.

Nodding. The bird was making Feli nod...

"Shit! That's a yes!" He exclaimed.

Spain laughed cheerily behind him. "Oh, so now it's time to storm the castle?"

Before Germany could answer, America and England decided to join their conversation, rushing in as if having been called by the German yell. At Antonio's words, America brightened up and set his hands on the table, leaning forward as if hanging on their words. "We know where to go now?"

Italy continued to nod. Romano grinned. "Great. So now we just go and kick everybody's ass."

But it was England who was the voice of reason. "No. We still need a plan."

Now that its message had been carried out, the yellow chick settled down on the table, hopping around and poking at the cups of hot cocoa. Ludwig barely gave the bird any thought. They had a direction – a place. Now they needed direction – a plan.

"So, how much magic you got?" America asked, facing England.

Germany grunted. "We cannot rely on that; we must have a real battle plan."

"Do you really need a battle plan for a rescue mission?" Spain questioned.

England nodded. "Of course. If we just run in there all willy-nilly, we'll get captured in ten seconds flat." As if the words were funny, America put a hand over his mouth, hiding back a small chuckle. Ludwig raised his eyebrow at the American but let it go and focused back on the Englishman who had turned to Alfred. "I've got most of it back, why?"

"Fuck yeah!" Alfred grinned. "Super awesome invisible barrier!"

Crossing his arms, Ludwig rolled his eyes. "That works for hiding us but we should probably not go in all at once. We'll need to split up; someone to cause a distraction and some to follow the bird until we find their holding place." He paused, closing his eyes before opening them slowly. "That's the best I can think of without knowing the layout of the place they're in."

With a huff, England nodded. "I'm with Germany on this one. A barrier won't be too helpful for a rescue mission. I do have plenty of other spells, though."

And then Romano asked the question they all should have thought of long ago. "Do you have a location spell?"

Ludwig could see the face go white and then he cursed his own self for not thinking to ask as well. "Maybe," Arthur mumbled.

America stared. "Ah...bro, really? You've had that this whole time?"

"Shut up!" Arthur snapped, turning away from all of their eyes. "Hmph. It's not like I could have performed the spell."

"Whatever," Romano growled, his annoyance quite clear. "It really doesn't matter." And then the loud mouthed Italian turned to Ludwig. "Come on then. You're the guy with the master plans for nearly everything."

_Thanks for the compliment...I think..._

With a sigh, Ludwig put a hand up to his head, trying to think. It didn't take too long for an idea to come to him. "I'll take Alfred and Arthur for the magic and strength to sneak in and rescue," he said. Things started coming to him as he talked, so he nodded as he spoke. "Antonio should probably be in charge of the distraction."

"Si~" Spain agreed quickly. "Lovi and I can stage a great distraction~"

Romano scoffed, a blush apparent on his face but he was obviously trying not to show any affection. A typical Romano. "Don't call me that, tomato bastard."

At Italy's awkward shift and waiting eyes, Germany sighed. _I don't really want to put him through anything else, but..._

"Feli, you can be with whoever you want to be for this mission. I'm leaving it up to you."

Spain grinned, immediately jumping for the opening. "He can come with us~"

Wishing the Spainard _hadn't_ said that, Germany fought to keep his face clear of emotion while his Italian looked between them. When Feliciano nodded, Ludwig had to fight the urge to demand he stay here. After all, _here_ wasn't very safe if his Italian was going to be alone.

"I'll go with Spain then. I'd really rather not have to go face to face with one of them."

_Yes. I know. _

"Righto," Arthur said, stepping forward a bit as if moving forward was what it took to get attention. "We have a plan now and I don't think we should waste anymore time."

Ludwig nodded. They were ready. _Bruder, I'm coming._

~!~

The snow was beginning to fall when the plane landed. Natasha stood up quickly and efficiently, gathering the guns she had brought along. She could feel the eyes of her nation watching her every movement and although it made her slightly nervous it was not enough to make her tremble in fear or to bow down and worship. No, her relationship with her nation was different than that. Much different.

Natasha Stravinsky had been bred for such purpose as to follow her personified nation. Russia. Ivan. The strange somewhat mental man who had always been there in her life. He had always been there whether or not he realized. Since she was a child, she had been in and out of his house – the building close to yet separated from the Russian capital buildings. She had watched him from afar after being introduced as a child.

Watched and wondered. Curious to see his past times. The country. The nation in human form. This white-haired angel who had brought her dolls one Christmas and then the next day forgotten her name. She understood it, though. He was a nation. He had too many names to keep up with and too much grown-up affairs to deal with to remember a young child.

They shared a family name, apparently. Ivan Stravinsky. Her family member that had no direct lineage or connection to any of them beside the name and the history. Oh, the history.

As a child, she trained and learned as much as she could. Ivan was good for history lessons, as long as he was in a happy mood. She soon learned the meanings of such mood changes, though he never laid a hand on her. But it was because he was a nation. He was not human. He was something more.

And this something more intrigued her beyond normal interest. She became obsessed. She worked hard. Harder than any of the boy children training along with her. She had a reason to work harder. She wanted to be assigned as his body guard. She wanted to be with him for as long as her life allowed. When she realized that he would not age, that he would not grow old and weak, she merely acknowledged that she would simply be an insignificant ant in the background of his life.

But she would make it mean something.

To her, if nothing else.

"Tasha?"

She growled at the other insignificant ant in the room. The one she considered even beneath her. The thin, dark-haired, dark-eyed man who simply took up space in her life. The other human bodyguard assigned to forever follow Ivan Stravinsky. The two of them being among the handful of humans who knew Ivan's true identity.

She hated having to share Russia, but she followed orders. Still, it didn't mean she had to give this other ant a name. She couldn't remember it if she wanted to, anyway. Perhaps if he was not so clumsy. Perhaps if he was not so annoying. Perhaps if he was not _always there_.

As it was, she had nicknamed him Space and had refused to learn any other name. Space to represent the space he filled. The space she would much rather have been empty.

"What?" She growled, her eyes flashing dangerously to him, following his movements as he copied hers.

"I think things have made a turn for the worse here."

The moment Space spoke, Russia stood up and smiled. "Well, then, we should hurry, _da ?_"

He was always smiling. Cute. Innocent, almost. A happy attitude that made everyone else she talked to freeze in their steps. She loved it. He gave a smile directly to her and she gave a nod, stepping to the side and out of his way, feeling her breath hitch from the simple gesture.

They were here for a purpose. Russia had decided to join forces with an uprising movement. A one-world-government movement. She did not understand it, personally, but she was not the one in charge. She followed her angel anywhere, and he had decided to come here. To this place in the Canadian winterland. This place set far away from home. This hidden base for a hidden movement.

Apparently, there was something here that he wanted. Something. Someone. Other nations. Whenever Ivan spoke of other nations a strange gleam appeared in his eye and he would speak of family. He was almost obsessed with the idea of a huge family, probably meant to fill the void of his huge empty house.

So be it. If they were here to pick up other nations, then it was her job to keep things under control and to make sure Russia came out on top. For Russia. For her white-haired angel. She would follow him into death if he so commanded.

When Russia opened the plane door, her senses went on immediate alert. It wasn't the cold or the snow flurries flying into the room. It wasn't the rush of an invigorating thrill, something she always experienced when entering a new territory with Ivan. No, the noise set her on alert. The sound of machine guns. The sound of shouts in different languages. The sound of battle.

Space, the other ant, had been right. Things were taking a turn for the worse. It sounded like someone else had arrived. Someone else who wanted the captured nation. Natasha lifted the gun in her hand, pulling the safety, set and ready. A special taser gun sat in her coat pocket. She always kept it on hand, something she had been bred to do, something she had ready in case another nation created problems for hers. She was not always allowed to kill a nation, not unless specifically ordered, and so the taser gun sat in her possession, ready and waiting as well.

"It seems as if others are here, too," Ivan spoke as his eyes scanned the area, the wind picking up his scarf and tossing it around a little.

Before Natasha could respond, a figure appeared in her vision. Another human. Someone who wore a uniform she did not recognize. A new uniform. _How organized is this movement? How dangerous? _

"Ah, yes, it appears that our two captured nations have some insane friends on their side." The nametag was in English. She couldn't make it out. Ricky? George? RG? Reading English always gave her headache.

Whatever the case, he was obviously an important figure here, so she kept her mouth shut and let Ivan do the talking. "Take me to _Prussiyah_."

"Uh, we also have Canada."

Natasha could feel the patience wearing thin. Ivan did not like to wait, especially on matters he considered trivial. She watched as he stepped forward, smiling, though she could definitely feel the menace glare this time, thankful that his mood change hadn't turned on her. "Take me to them."

She did have to hold back a haughty laugh when the English human – or was he American? No matter. He was a fool and a coward if he couldn't handle Ivan's glare. The human moved immediately, spinning around and almost flying down the steps to lead them out of the plane and across the runway.

The noise of battle kept her on edge but she stayed close to Ivan. She stayed close to her beautiful, cold white-haired angel. The snow added to his beauty and his own personal aura seemed to grow as he walked through the flurries, the wind flopping through his scarf that he never seemed to be without.

Finally, they made it inside. And down. The warehouse didn't seem to be well equipped. Like it was a temporary base. She had to wonder where their main base was, if they had one. Again, she had to wonder how dangerous these people were. They might one day be a threat to her own nation. The idea of a one world government was all fine and perfect when they were allied with Russia, wanting a Russian government, but that could change in a moment and she would have to be ready. She would be ready.

The English speaking human left them alone, rushing off to take care of his own kind or whatever. Natasha stayed beside Russia and that other guy, that other insignificant ant stayed on his other side. Ivan reached out, gripping the doorknob to the apparent prison of two other nations.

A part of her was curious. She had not seen another nation besides her Russia. She had only known her own nation. She had always known that there were others, but she was not sure what they looked like, how they acted. What kind of danger was Ivan in once they opened this door? What did she have to be wary of?

"It's about time!" She heard the exclamation from the other side as the door began to open, quite sure that whoever had spoken had mistaken their identities.

Ivan took the opportunity to smile. "I knew you would miss me, _da_?"

He stepped forward into the room and Natasha got her chance to step into the light and look across at the other two occupants. At first she saw white hair and growled, then noticed how different it was as she looked closer and saw the red eyes widen, the strange color reflecting oddly in the dim lighting. Albino. An albino nation. Now that was strange. The other appeared normal, at least, longer blond hair and wearing clothes much better fit for this winter weather.

"Y-you!" The albino gasped as Russia moved forward. Chains rattled as the nation clawed his way backwards, pushing himself against a wall, looking for all the world like a deer caught in the headlights.

The blond spoke next, his eyes shifting between the Russian nation and the albino, a hand clinging to the pale man next to him. "N-no...This isn't right...G-go away!"

And then Space stepped forward. "Nope. We're taking you with us. So come on. Stand up."

Natasha sent a glare to her comrade and then noticed the strange mannerisms of her nation. Russia was moving forward, reaching into his long winter coat and pulling out his famed iron pipe. With every step Ivan took, the albino seemed to shrink back further. There was a history here between these two. She should know. She knew Russian history. But she couldn't recall...

Shaking her head, she forced herself to focus. Whatever the reason, Russia seemed a little preoccupied with the albino one, whoever it was. It was not her place to ask questions. It was her place to react and follow orders. If Ivan wanted to personally take care of that one, then her and Space would have to worry about the other one. Lucky for them, the blond didn't seem capable of moving, not with a leg twisted and broken like that. Apparently nations could have their bones broken. She had to wonder what such a thing would mean for the actual country, though. If harm came to the personified nation, did harm happen to the country as a whole? The economy perhaps? Or was there more to it?

"We'll take this one," she found herself saying, stepping closer to the blond. "I doubt he'll be able to walk."

Russia immediately grinned and she saw a visible tremble pick up in the pale albino. "That means you are with me, _da_?"

The blond yelped and leaned further against the albino, clinging to him as if holding on for dear life. "N-no! Prussia, help, don't let them do this! Prussia, do something!"

Ah, so the albino was Prussia. Which meant this blond was Canada. What history did she know of Prussia and what could make her nation and the albino react so to each other? What had happened? What had she not been told? What had been neglected in her history studies?

As she questioned things, trying to understand that look in Russia's eyes, trying to understand the fear she saw in the gleaming red of Prussia... her other comrade was busy actually doing his job. Space took it upon himself to release the albino from his chains, a necessity if they were going to move, and then he grabbed at Canada, starting to pull the nation away.

As if the very act of pulling Canada away from him was enough to make the albino snap out of it, Prussia sprang up and punched Space in the face. At first, Natasha stood, astonished. The anger. The fire. The way the man – nation – was ignoring Russia...

"I wouldn't have done that if I were you," she said, simply, watching her own nation from the corner of her eye.

Russia raised the iron pipe and brought it down with incredibly speed, smacking it directly on the albino's head. Natasha watched as the Prussian nation fell to his knees, gripping at his head. "Fuck!" Any normal human would have been knocked out, but this nation stayed awake. Blood starting to drip from his shock of white hair but awake.

"That was not very nice," Ivan cooed, crouching down to speak directly to the albino. "I thought you were already well-trained to know better."

_Well-trained. Wait. What? Prussia was dissolved all those years ago. How is he alive? What is Russia talking about?_

Meanwhile, the Canadian had crawled to get closer to the ex-nation and was shouting at her Russian nation. Shouting in French. Probably obscene things. Not that Russia cared. His focus seemed to be entirely on the currently cursing Prussian.

"Do you even know what they're doing?" Canada shouted.

Natasha understood. Speaking English was very different from understanding it which was also just as different from reading it. She could understand the almost universal language, whether or not she enjoyed reading it was a separate matter.

"They are wanting all to be one with me," Russia answered, actually turning his focus from the albino to face the blond with a smile. "I am excited for you. You will love my house."

The albino began to move again, whimpering even as he swung out. Russia reacted like she knew he would, grabbing the fist aimed for him and bringing his iron pipe down on the exposed arm. The Prussian screamed but was quick to swallow it back this time. He swung again and Russia reacted quickly again, twisting his arm back and pulling the albino closer to him, grinning as they were almost face-to-face.

"I know you like this game, but we do not have time," Russia said, frowning. No longer smiling. "You will calm down, _da_?"

Natasha moved. She knew what kind of fighter this albino was. She may not know personally, but she had met men like him before. She knew that he would not give up. Not quickly. Not when they needed quick. So, she pulled her taser gun out of her pocket and slid her way into close proximity. While the albino spat at her beautiful snowy angel, Natasha set the taser to a ridiculously high setting, something that might have killed a normal human but not something that would take out a nation. At least, hopefully not, not from what she had seen so far.

Reaching out, she slammed the taser into Prussia's back, watching the whole back arch and the whole body tense before slumping forward, successfully unconscious in Russia's arms. She grimaced at her angel's sad face and did her best to explain herself. "Sorry to interrupt your fun, but we should be gone."

From beside them on the floor, Canada reached out, screaming. "No! Prussia! No! Wake up!" He actually started to struggle as Space grabbed him and started to carry him out. "No! Let me go! Prussia, wake up. Please, please, wake up!"

Natasha set her teeth while Russia picked up the unconscious albino, treating the other nation gently now that there was no longer a struggle. A part of her felt jealousy, wondering what in the world was going on in her nation's mind as he cradled the Prussian. "I did not want to hurt him. He gave me no choice. You understand?"

"No, you're going to have him killed!" Canada screamed, a fire in his eyes as he continued to struggle against Space, fighting even if it was useless. "I swear, my brother is coming and he is going to kill you. All of you! You hear me? Let me go!"

Lifting her gun, Natasha stepped over to the screaming nation. Pointing it directly at him, she smirked. "I could stun you, too. Either shut up and come quietly or be like your insanely stupid friend."

Canada flinched and finally stopped his screams, mumbling a rather quiet, "He's not my friend...he's more than that..."

"More than a friend?" Russia sounded confused, even if Natasha understood. "But he is not one with you..."

"You know nothing..." Canada mumbled again.

She shook her head, knowing exactly what the nation was talking of. The way he had been clinging to the albino. The way the Prussian had jumped up the minute Canada was separated from him. There was much more going on between them. Much more than friendship. Was that even allowed?

While they walked, Russia laughed, "I think it is you who does not understand, _da_? Everyone will be one with me eventually so everything else does not matter."

_Right. Nothing else matters. Nothing except keeping my nation safe while he fulfills his wishes. Even if it includes forcing the rest of the world to be under an empire. No matter what. I will do my job. I will protect him. Follow him. _

_...to my death, if need be. My cold, beautiful angel._

As they made their way back to the plane, Natasha tried to keep her focus. There were other nations here. Friends. There were more. Here to rescue the two they had just taken.

...Where were they?

~!~

_A/N: Ah, well, I've grown to really like Russia, even if he's always on the 'wrong' side and a little mental. And my random OC...I don't even...came out of nowhere, really. Originally just a name, now she has a back story and is bit less one dimensional. Yay for three dimensional characters! And Merry Christmas everyone! :D_

_Kairi- I think this is as appropriate a time as any to quote Harry Potter - "Mental, that one." Also, I know what's gonna happen ne~xt, I know what's gonna happen ne~xt, nah-nah-nah-nah-nah~~ _


	21. Chapter 21

**Author Notes****:**

-This part was difficult. Really, really difficult. There are multiple ways to handle fight scenes. Separate it and keep it chronologically correct and continually switch between them. Or pick characters to tell from and show as much as possible with one character before switching. Even re-winding a scene in order to show a different side. Different methods are used and different methods work different ways as can be expected. Eh. This is a long-winded way of saying I did what I thought would work best, but boy was it difficult.

-Epic fight scene ahoy?

-Also, I want you to forgive me for all the silliness/ things-that-don't-make-sense. I never expected to have so many people follow this and did not take this scene as seriously as it normally would have been. Just enjoy, I guess. :)

-That is, if you don't kill me first.

~!~

One Month

Chapter 21

~!~

Distraction team.

What the fuck was a distraction team? Seriously, though, what were they supposed to do out here? Make a bunch of noise? Act like idiots? Get everyone to chase them around?

Heh...

Well, that did make sense then. Distraction. Distract the humans from the real rescue team. Fuck, but it had been stupid to allow Veneziano with them. This was probably the most dangerous -

"Lovi, this way!"

Antonio, Spain, the tomato bastard, grabbed his arm and started tugging him in another random direction. They had been doing this for what seemed like hours now, though surely it was only a couple minutes. Still, it didn't take much to get him to run. People were shooting at them!

And Spain was laughing!

Fucking cheery bastard...

"_Fratello_, hurry up!" Romano shouted, searching the area for his brother.

Veneziano was doing his own thing, waving a white flag in the air like it actually meant something. Romano groaned and snapped at him again, finally getting his attention. Thankfully, these humans were rather bad shots, at least from the distance. They had yet to be hit. They had yet to be injured.

Fucking hell, this was the worst possible place to be right now. Why had he agreed to this? And why was Spain always so fucking happy about everything?

"Come on, Lovi, we need to -" Spain started to say, getting cut off and dropping his grip on Romano's arm.

Lovino spun to face him immediately, seeing the happy face replaced by a grimace and the hand that _had_ been holding his arm now slapped and holding onto Antonio's own shoulder. "What happened? What was that? Did you just get shot? Shit, bastard, talk to me!"

Green eyes flicked over to him and the grimace turned to a forced grin. "It's okay, Lovi. Just a scratch." The eyebrows lowered, making the eyes narrow as they turned to look back toward the human's warehouse base. "We have to move, though. Phase one of the distraction is over."

Serious. Antonio was being serious. Romano found himself dumbfounded by the new information. There were very few moments when Antonio was serious like this. Hell, moments ago he had been laughing his head off. Now -

"_Fratello?_" Veneziano was beside him now, the quick makeshift white flag hanging uselessly by his side.

Romano glanced to the side, seeing his brother, and then swallowing his own fear and worry to focus on what Spain had said. They had to move. "Right. Move. Where?"

Green eyes seemed to sparkle. Antonio reached down to grab the battle axe that he had dropped earlier, revealing the wound – small as it was – in his shoulder. Lovino wanted to grab the tomato bastard and demand they fix it, but he knew better than that. This was not the time or the place. They had to move somewhere first.

"Come on. Follow me. We'll circle around toward the plane that landed."

Not understanding how that was better. Not understanding anything that Antonio ever said, really. Romano allowed the bastard to do what he wanted. He nodded his head and agreed. "Right. So let's move."

He grit his teeth and grabbed his brother's hand, running with Veneziano behind Spain, even though his eyes kept moving to the blood staining the cloth around Antonio's shoulder. Damn bastard better be all right.

~!~

A little part of him was still wondering why they were following a small yellow chick through a warehouse. Sure, it had been correct. This was definitely where his brother was being held, but why were they still following the bird? Why hadn't they split off on their own yet? And why were they going back outside...

The minute America made it out to meet the snow flurries of the outside Canadian winterland, his eyes grazed over the rest of the scenery. The runway. The plane. The people. His brother!

"Bro!" He shouted, his feet immediately picking up speed as he reached for his gun and ran like nothing else in the world mattered.

He could hear the German beside him, shouting something as well, rushing along next to him. In front of him he saw Russia carrying an unconscious Prussia into the plane, disappearing beyond their vision. Most importantly, though, he saw his brother struggling against some random guy. And there was this dark haired girl decked out in her own weaponry walking behind them all, facing them, getting ready to shoot at them.

From behind, America heard England shout something in a different language. He watched the human girl freeze and levitate in the air, looking confused but reacting rather quickly for a human. "Get up there, you idiots!"

Thanking Arthur for his use of magic, America was quick to comply with his boyfriend's demand. After all, he was already racing to catch the assholes who had his brother. And Germany was right there with him. The human girl, like he had noted earlier, reacted quick under pressure, pulling her gun out and shooting toward them. Even if it missed America and Germany, it obviously startled England, because the levitation spell stopped and she landed on her feet, smirking for all the world like she wasn't scared at all.

America growled and pulled his own gun out, knowing he wasn't about to shoot towards his brother but he could focus on the human girl. He could focus on the biggest non-nation threat for now. She was exposed, separated, an easier target.

"A-America!" The shout from Canada just invigorated him more, pushing his adrenaline even higher.

"I'm coming, bro!" Alfred shouted back, aiming his revolver toward the human girl.

He shot a couple of times and saw what he could only describe as a beam of light fly above him. Some kind of magical energy thing. Iggy. It didn't hit the female. Hell, it didn't hit anything. But it flew close enough to the guy holding Canada to cause him to drop Matthew.

Feeling the spike to his adrenaline rush, America finally found himself close enough to the human to fight her head on. He reached out and disarmed her first, smirking when her eyes widened. She was quick on her feet, though, spinning and shoving her elbow up into his chin, making his head swing back. She returned the favor while he was stunned, disarming him and scowling, leaving no moment free to think.

They fought back and forth for a few steps in a strange dance. While Germany ran past him, rushing up stairs into the Russian plane, America growled and fought back a surprisingly well trained chick. At one point, she pulled out a different gun. A taser weapon. He braced himself for the electric stun, but could only grin when nothing happened.

Iggy again, definitely. God, but his boyfriend was amazing.

"Looks like you lose, sweetheart," Alfred said with a smirk, preparing to completely knock her out now that he had the upperhand.

And then something in her eyes changed. She looked sad. Her arms moved but only to her side, non-threatening. "You wouldn't shoot a girl, would you?"

He blinked. For two reasons. First off, he hadn't been planning to shoot her at all, so why would she say that? And secondly, what the hell was up with that question. She was obviously a trained combatant. It wasn't the same thing. Hitting a girl... she was Russian. He should have all the rights in the world to -

He felt the gun barrel against his head. He heard her whisper. "Sorry, _sweetheart_."

And then...

Darkness...

~!~

"N-No! Al! Dieu, no!" Canada reached out, as if he could touch his brother from across the stairs that separated them.

It was impossible. That couldn't happen. A human couldn't kill them. Prussia had said that. Prussia had said – he had – he -

Blinking back the tears, Matthew felt the world rush back in to meet him. The other human grabbed him, picked him up, dragged him through the door and into the plane. Prussia. Prussia was still here. Unconscious. Not dead. Right? Human things couldn't kill them. They were nations. America wasn't dead, right?

Oh...maple...what if...

"Agh! No! Let me go!" He struggled some more, punching out, kicking out with his good leg. He had to fight. Had to be stronger. Had to do something. Something, this time. Anything. Even if he had no idea what.

Surprisingly, the guy cursed and dropped him. For the second time. And the human ran, ran because Germany was here, or at least closer. Germany was running up the stairs. At least someone had made it passed that insane fucking bitch of a human. At least someone else was here.

"Oh, yes, you are here, too." Russia's voice froze him, though. Too much was happening. Too much. Too fast. He could hardly breathe.

Looking deeper inside the plane, he saw the white-haired Russian leaning over a still unconscious Gilbert. Ivan had handcuffed Prussia's hands to a seat. Handcuffed him but still touching him. A hand gently holding up the unresponsive face by a pale chin. A thumb running over parted lips. At first, Canada stared, then he realized that something weird was going on. Of course he knew the Russian was weird in the first place, but -

"Leave him alone!" Matthew snapped, feeling a fire in his stomach, something feral, something completely unlike him. Possessive? Of what?

Ivan stood up, too, violet eyes crinkling up as he smiled. A twisted, creepy, way-too-happy-to-be-normal smile that made him cringe back. But before the Russian could speak, Germany appeared on the scene, stepping between Matthew and Ivan. "Russia! What are you doing?"

And Russia answered calmly enough, sliding slowly closer. "I am going to make everyone be one with me and we will be a big happy, family living in my house."

_Insane_, Canada thought. Creepy and insane and he never had been the same since the second world war, had he? Russia was always weird and awkward, but...this...fear...

Canada gulped and then found his eye caught on something else behind the tall Russian nation. Prussia was stirring. He was waking up.

_Oh, dieu, he's alive!_

~!~

He woke up. At least, he was pretty sure he was awake now, even if he couldn't see anything. He _had_ opened his eyes, though, and it didn't feel like there was a blindfold or anything.

Prussia groaned, blinking, finding that it didn't help. What had happened? The last thing he could remember was trying to fight back Russia. Oh, yes, he had been hit from behind. Some kind of electric shock. Something strong. Way too strong. Like it had been turned to a point where a normal human would have died, but he had simply been knocked out.

And now he couldn't see.

_Great._

_Well, it should be temporary, right? Temporary blindness after a shock like that makes sense, right?_

_I guess..._

He tried to move his arm, hearing the clink of handcuffs, slowly fitting the pieces together. Still caught, then. Only now with Russia. He grimaced. Russia...

_Not again. Please not again._

"P-Prussia!" Canada was here.

"Bruder!" And...his brother? "Hold on, we're getting you out of here."

The voice that filled him with hope was soon followed by the one that sent fear down his back no matter what the circumstances these days. "I do not think anyone will be leaving." So Russia was here, too.

Gott, if only he could see. "W-west?" _Think positive. West said we were gonna get out of here. _"Took your damn time," he said, sitting back in the chair, forcing a little grin.

_Stay calm. Be cool. West is here. You'll get out of this. He's here this time._

_Right. Easy for you to say..._

"Canada, go get _mein bruder_. I will handle Russia."

"Ah, but little Canada cannot move easily, and you will not be taking my favorite pet from me anyway."

Tensing up at the sound of Russia's voice yet again, Prussia fought the urge to panic. He did not need to panic. It would be way too un-awesome if he panicked. He had to stay calm. Russia or no Russia, he had to stay calm.

"_Mein bruder_ is _not_ your pet!"

_Thanks, West, really, but focus, huh? Aren't you fighting him now?_

Squeezing his useless eyes shut, feeling blood leaking down his face – probably from that earlier wound – Prussia tugged at his restraints. He desperately wanted to be out of this place. He wanted to be as far from Russia as he could get. Captured by humans? Whatever. Captured by Russia? Not. Awesome. At all.

"Calm down, little bird. You do not want to hurt yourself."

"I'm not your fucking little bird!" He snapped at last, wincing only because he could hear the hysteria in his voice.

_Fuck. Not awesome. Not supposed to show your fear. Verdammt. I can't do this again. Please don't let this happen again._

A hand touched his own. At first he tensed, expecting Russia, but he heard a grunt, the sound of a fight, from a different direction. And then a familiar, whispery voice from somewhere close by. "It's all right. We're going to get out of here. Everyone's here."

_Birdie..._

Prussia had to grin, letting himself relax, letting his head hang, keeping his eyes closed because it felt better than having them open and seeing nothing.

_Look at that, he's comforting you now._

_Oh, shut up._

"I knew he was useful for something," came Russia's voice, making him tremble before he could hold it back. "Ah, I cannot wait to see all of you in my house together."

"Shut up!" That was Canada. Heh. He didn't even sound scared. "They're probably going to kill you, too!"

Prussia blinked, hearing the sound of clinking metal, realizing he was trembling. _Fuck, control yourself! _Opening his eyes for just a second by habit, he noticed something else. It wasn't dark anymore. Just incredibly blurry. He could lift his head and see two figures fighting near the plane's entrance. His brother was here. His brother had come.

Why did it make him want to cry? Why did it send so much emotion to his heart? Because Germany _hadn't_ rescued him all those years ago? Or did it just mean something to have his brother actually care, to _show_ that he actually cared? Fighting Russia...

"Prussia..." Canada muttered, fingers gripping tightly to his arm.

He could feel the water forming in his eyes. He could feel it..._Verdammt, not awesome. Not awesome at all. _

"Don't..." he found himself whispering. "Just...don't...fucking cry..." It was more to himself than anything. He wasn't used to people caring. Sure, he had friends and family, but no one had tried to make things better during those forty years of hell. No one had stood up to Russia before.

Until now...

~!~

At first, Canada just clung to the albino. He gripped onto his arm and held tightly, swallowing his own fear, ignoring the fast beating of his own heart. He could see that Prussia was scared, and having the usually strong albino so frightened made him want to curl up and hide from the situation himself.

But he couldn't do that. He had to be strong. Even if Germany was the one fighting Russia. Even if Germany was the one really saving the day here. For whatever reason, Prussia was acting like he couldn't see all that well and he was trembling like he was scared out of his mind. Granted, even temporarily losing one's eyesight was enough shock to freak a lot of people out.

Still, Canada eventually loosened his grip and focused instead on the handcuffs keeping the albino pinned. They would have to break those. Somehow.

Germany was fighting Russia, hand-to-hand combat, moving throughout the plane as they fought. It meant Russia was distracted. It meant Canada could try to free Prussia. It meant...

He heard the sound of a body falling and turned to see Russia knocked out against a row of seats. The iron pipe sat on the ground near his feet, no longer a threat. Russia was unconscious. Germany had won. They were going to get out of here! They were really -

Something shifted, the feel of everything moving, the sound of engines working. Even as Canada tried to figure it out, Prussia was the first one to shout something. "Shit! We're moving! Hurry up and get me out of here, West!"

As Germany rushed over to his brother, fiddling with the handcuffs, trying to pick the lock, Canada sent a prayer up. To someone. Anyone. _We're moving. The plane's moving. But please, let us still get out of here alive...Give me a happy ending. Please._

~!~

_A/N: Give me a motherfucking happy ending. Jeez. Yeah, sorry for the somewhat short chapter. (Half the size of the last one...) Another action chapter comes up next. Hopefully one that finishes the action. Thoughts? I always feel weak on my action scenes (they're really, really difficult, argh!) so advice is wonderfully accepted! Not to mention, the chapter didn't exactly end as I was planning it to; it just couldn't come out right. It just doesn't /feel/ right. But, then again, that may just be me being super picky. Who knows. _

_~I appreciate all reviews/alerts/favorites; thanks and happy new year...~_

_~Reda_


	22. Chapter 22

**Author Notes****:**

-Silly thing exists in here. Run with your imagination, folks. (I mean it, like, fuck physics for a moment). And don't listen to "My Heart Will Go On" when reading this. Two points of advice and I'm done.

-I lied. Another point: I'm a fantasy writer. Deal with my magic fun. Personally, I love it, but sometimes it gets a little, eh, too flash-bang-whiz-ish?

-I listened to "Dearly Beloved" (the Kingdom Hearts II version), too.

~!~

One Month

Chapter 22

~!~

It was as if the world had shifted into a slower time setting. It was as if everything was happening in slow motion. As if he could see every detail, hear every noise, and yet still not move fast enough. He was too far away. Alfred was too far for him to move him out of the way. Arthur couldn't get a spell up fast enough, but he could watch. Oh, he could see it all happen; see every excruciating detail.

He watched as they seemed to freeze in place for the longest time. Frozen statues staring at each other, as if they were having a grand philosophical debate in the middle of a battle. Then the girl lifted her gun. Placed it at Alfred's head.

Arthur was running the moment he saw it. The scream was in his throat but it wouldn't break free. His hand was outstretched, clawing at the air. Several magic spells came to his mind. All it would take was one. Something. Anything. But his brain was working too slow. Everything was too slow.

The gun shot echoed through the wintry air. Arthur Kirkland felt his eyes widen, felt his feet stumble, felt himself fall back. Time sped up. Alfred fell, his body limply hitting the staircase and then getting kicked back onto the ground. A gun shot to the head. But...that wasn't...he couldn't...

"America!" The scream tore its way out of his throat.

He dropped his spell book, letting it fall to the cold ground. His fingers clenched into fists. He started to shake. His eyes moved from the unresponsive to the female fighter.

Nothing else existed in the world. His eyes locked on her back as she started to retreat up the stairs. Glaring, water pricking at the edges of his vision, Arthur felt something in him snap. Anger exploded into his being. One spell came to his mind. A spell he had sworn never to use because it was too gruesome, too far into black magic.

But he knew it. He had tried to forget but there was no forgetting. Not now. It came to him, incantation and everything. He reached out his arm, acted like he was grabbing onto something. The girl stopped, clutching her chest. She turned. He could see her eyes. He could see her humanity, everything that made her human, written on her face, the fear as she held her chest and locked with his eyes.

He closed his hand, slowly at first, and then he squeezed, digging his fingers into his palms. The girl went rigid for a moment and then collapsed. And it was over. Two bodies left on the battlefield. Revenge had been carried out.

Arthur fell to his knees and wept as the world around him continued on.

~!~

Prussia jumped up from the chair the moment he felt the handcuffs come over. With a grin, he embraced his brother, trying to hide the pure relief. Using the grin and shutting his eyes to hide the fact that he was so close to breaking down. It was a mask he was accustomed to wearing, after all.

His heart was still pounding in his chest, that annoying little thing, but at the very least his brother wouldn't recognize his trembling for the fear it represented. "Are you all right?" West asked, as if trying to prove Prussia wrong.

It was an instant, easy reaction. "Kesesese~ of course I'm all right; it's me!" He warily took a step back from his brother, rubbing at his eyes and cursing the blurred vision. "Everything's all blurry as fuck, though." Not to mention his head still kind of hurt.

"We'll deal with that later," West said, always one to prioritize things, always one to focus on what really needed to be done. "Come on, we need to get out of here."

Prussia watched as his brother rushed over to the door, growling at how it had been closed. Something that must have happened during the fight with Russia. Before Gilbert could say anything about emergency exit, West found a button or handle or something – _verdammt_ it was difficult to see shit – and managed to open the door. Only, that brought a lot of wind and another curse from West.

Having his brother here was all well and good, but where had Canada gone? With a frown, Prussia squinted his eyes and started looking around the room, pretty sure he had heard Birdie's voice earlier. So, where...?

"There you are," he muttered, finding his Birdie sitting next to one of the chairs. He made his way over as quickly as he could, crouching down in front of the little Canadian. "How you holding up?" He asked, even as he grimaced and set a hand to his head again, feeling the dried blood, knowing there was going to be a huge ass headache for a long time.

His Birdie didn't respond for a moment, just looking back at him with those clear blue eyes. _Clear_, Prussia thought. _He hasn't been crying. _As if simply thinking those words was enough to open the flood gates, water started making little tracks down the dirty, beat up face. They were silent, though, and Canada's arms reached out and wrapped around Prussia in half a second, holding on to him, like he was clinging for dear life.

Gilbert sat stunned, even after all this time finding it strange to be relied on like that. Even after all this time, it was strange having someone clinging to him. It hadn't happened since West was a child. No one else had ever -

"There's no time to lose, _bruder_. Let's go!" West interrupted his thoughts, tossing a parachute toward him.

Prussia blinked, staring at the parachute before everything clicked into place. They were flying in the air, then. They were actually starting to take off. Otherwise, West wouldn't throw them a parachute. This plane was probably flying to Russia. He tensed at the thought and started to reach out for the parachute when a movement against his shoulder brought his attention back to Canada.

Oh...Right...

"West, you got another one somewhere?"

"_Nein_. There's only two."

_Only two?_

_Well, you know what that means..._

_Shit..._

With a gulp, he grabbed the parachute. But he was unable to keep himself from frowning as he started to hook the parachute up to his Birdie. If there were only two, then he had better get Birdie out of here. If one of them had to go to Russia, it would _never_ be Birdie.

"Wa-wait! Prussia, no! What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Gilbert said, tilting his head and forcing a grin. Oh, but it was so _easy_ to force that grin. "I'm getting you out of here." Once everything was on his Birdie, he stood up, pulling Canada up with him, making sure Matthew could lean against him because of that leg. "Ready to go?"

Canada blinked and looked up at him. Prussia made sure to keep the grin on his face. He had to keep the facade. He couldn't slip now. Arms wrapped around his middle, holding on tightly. "I'm not leaving you here."

"Birdie..."

"I mean it!"

He could feel his brother's eyes on him, watching everything. Waiting. It wouldn't exactly be fair to West to make him come all the way out here and then not leave with them. Maybe...

"Okay. Here's what we're gonna do, then." Blinking back the annoying blur, Gilbert pulled his Birdie next to the wall and then pushed him against it. Leaned over and kissed him. Hard. Full. But not too deep because there just wasn't time for it. "Hold on to me. I trust you, okay? So hold on and don't let go." He grinned again, actually feeling the crazy risk-taking adventure side of this insane idea. "And don't forget to open the parachute, ja?"

Canada nodded, blinking back the tears in his eyes, smiling a little himself, like he was learning from Prussia's example. "G-Gil...if this doesn't work...I-I want you to know..." There was a pause. Gilbert watched the blush creep onto Birdie's face and then he heard a whispered, "I love you."

_Ah...he..._

_There you go. He said it. Now respond. Because you know you feel the same, you stubborn ass._

His face was growing warm. He could feel it. His heart pounding for an entirely different reason now. Oh, damn, but Birdie had strange timing. His mouth felt dry and his tongue was refusing to move. Finally, he managed to swallow and lick his lips. "Y-yeah..." he whispered out. "Right back at ya."

And then his Birdie really _did_ smile. Before anymore could be said, though, West broke the moment by clearing his throat. "This is truly wonderful and all, but we need to go. Now."

Looking up, Prussia smirked at his brother and gave a nod. "Right." Then he turned back to Birdie. "Ready?"

Canada nodded, too, still clinging to him as they walked over to the open door. West stared at him, not saying a word, but making it clear that he was going to wait on the two of them first. Grinning at the open sky, letting his eyes show his normal determination, his challenge-seeking risk-taking senses heightening. Then with a last glance to West, and a small kiss to Birdie, he forced the both of them out of the plane, laughing and screaming as the rush took over. Like it was a super awesome rollarcoaster ride and not an insane plunge to the ground below.

What happened next was all up to fate, and Prussia was still ready to defy all logic in order to make his own fate, this time with Birdie beside him.

~!~

Spain, Romano, and Veneziano all noticed something strange the moment they walked onto the runway. For one, the plane was gone, lifting off, but that they had noticed as they were running here. No, it was the fact that as soon as they were close enough to England any and all attacks aimed toward them seemed to fizzle several feet before anything could reach them. Bullets were dissolved mid air, for example.

Spain shrugged it off as a magic trick. England had always been able to pull things out of his ass in the middle of stressful times. Always able to keep fighting even when everyone else had long since fallen. Even if it involved throwing out random things. A stubborn side that refused to give.

Yet, Arthur Kirkland was currently on his knees, staring at the ground, not doing a damn thing to help them beyond the crazy magic barrier that must have been draining his energy. Arthur had specifically said the barrier would not be a good idea. He had specifically said many, many times that it would drain too much. Yet, he was doing it, and not doing anything else.

Where were the others? Why was England out here alone?

Spain frowned as he walked over to his European friend. The ground beneath his feet was acting funny, too, not very pavement-y like it should have been. Well, there wasn't snow on it, either. Not in this area. Like something had melted it away, like the barrier was keeping even the _snow_ out of the area. It wasn't much, but Antonio did feel like he was walking on mud, which didn't make sense because this was supposed to be _pavement_.

Then his eyes glanced beyond England and he saw the two bodies. He saw America. Lying on the ground. Like he was dead or -

Antonio felt his steps freeze the moment everything clicked. Was it possible? Could a human kill a nation? Did they win? In an effort to break apart and kill the nations, had the movement actually gotten one of them? _Was it possible?_

He dropped his axe and ignored the surprised shout of Romano behind him. His shoulder _did_ sting from that bullet wound, but it would heal in time. One hit wasn't enough to make him stop fighting. One attack to his shoulder hardly mattered. He was a nation. He would heal faster, as long as his country stayed healthy.

The sound of dropping his weapon so close managed to pull England's head up, though. Teary green eyes met Antonio's own and Spain nearly caved at the sorrow he saw there. If Arthur was crying so openly, then did that mean America really _was...?_

"Hey, tomato bastard, look up!"

Spain spun to Romano, not even flinching when he saw little Romano step back at his look. He hadn't glared at Romano in serious since... Even in battle, he had kept his face happy, kept his spirits high, wanting to make sure that Lovino didn't fear, wanting to make sure the Italy brothers would not panic. But this was different. Arthur was mourning; he needed serious; he needed someone to -

"I'm serious, you bastard, look up!" Romano snapped again, though his eyes looked colder.

Shrugging it off as something he would clear up later, Spain gave in and lifted his eyes to the sky. That was when he saw the parachutes. And the one that was falling too fast. Squinting his eyes, he caught a glint of silver reflecting against some light, moonlight maybe? Falling too fast...

Eyes widening, he turned back to England, setting a hand on the nation's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Arthur, but we could use some of that magic right about now." When the man didn't react to him, he gripped harder. "There's nothing more you can do for him right now. Others are in immediate danger and _we need you_."

"I can't just leave him!" Arthur shouted, throwing Spain's grip off.

_Fine. I have to give you hope. I don't know what hope there is, but I need to give it to you. A nation's life is decidedly different from a human's. There may still be a chance..._

"It's not possible, Arthur. Since when has a human killed one of us? It doesn't happen." He paused, putting emphasis in his next words. "There's a reason, but the truth is _we still don't know what can kill us. _And there are _other people_, Arthur."

It was harsh. It was hopeful. It was everything England needed, apparently. Choking on a sob, Arthur stood up, barely even registered the falling nations. A hand lifted and words were murmured. He looked tired, though. So, so tired. But the spell was cast, the parachuters were falling much slower now, like little feathers as they hit the ground. As soon as he mumbled the words, though, Arthur fell back, forcing Spain to catch him to keep him on his feet.

There wasn't much said about it. Antonio simply stood by until the magical nation could control himself again, and then Arthur was shaking his head. "Bloody hell..." he groaned before picking up the little energy he had to run over to where America still lay on the ground.

Spain let him go, letting his green eyes flick around to other things. Prussia. Canada. Germany. They had landed safely. Italy was running over to meet Germany. Romano was -

-standing just behind him with his arms crossed, looking quite angry. Setting his smile, Antonio took the steps necessary to reach Lovino, gesturing to the two happy couples by the parachutes. "See, Lovi? Happy endings are possible."

"Yeah," Romano snorted. "Happy fucking ending."

And, of course, that's when England's nice little barrier began to break. Apparently, they weren't done yet. Instead of showing his worry, Spain winked and grappled Lovino into a quick hug. "Well, it will be. Just you wait."

~!~

When they landed, Canada's eyes were still wide. He was still trying to process the fact that they were okay, that things had worked out, that he was here, alive, and with Prussia. His face blushed at the realization that he was sitting on top of Prussia, feeling awkward even now, even though they were still holding onto each other. The blush calmed as he took a breath and forced his fingers to flex, releasing his grip on the albino.

Prussia was still laughing like a child enjoying a crazy ride at an amusement park,. "Best. Rescue. Ever!"

And Canada couldn't help but smile and then laugh with him. It _was_ crazy. Jumping from a plane like that? It was insane! Impossible! Ridiculous!

"Shit, that was awesome!" Prussia laughed but after taking a breath he shut his eyes and grit his teeth as if in pain. Canada was about to ask if he was okay, about to worry, but the red eyes opened quickly and he chuckled some more. "Fuck, that hurt, but it was still fucking awesome!"

Glancing up, Matthew could see Italy running toward them. No, toward Germany. He saw the two of them connect, hugging, hearing sounds of Italian as Feliciano let everything out. Rolling off of Prussia, he also saw others. Romano and Spain. England. Gilbert had been right. It was almost as if everyone had dropped everything to come rescue them. So many friends here...helping...remembering his existence and _caring_ enough to form a rescue team.

It made him want to cry but he laughed instead, finding Gilbert's crazy laugh quite contagious. After a moment, he managed to calm down and turn a smile to the awesome albino. Everything else was forgotten. All the pain, the worry, any thought of his injured brother... For just a few moments, there was just him and Gilbert. "Je'taime," he whispered into the air.

Prussia's reaction wasn't exactly what he had been expecting. Red eyes blinked at him. Then turned away. A mumbled, "...fucking French."

Feeling his face flush, Canada bit his lip. "S-sorry...I guess I got carried away."

Thankfully, though, Gilbert turned back to face him. A grin spread wide over his face, even if he said nothing else. Although Matthew wasn't sure what to make of it, seeing the albino man grinning only made him want to smile, too. And he had to remind himself...they were _alive_. They were _free_. And he was with Prussia.

...he couldn't have asked for more.

~!~

Italy rushed over to Germany before Ludwig's feet even hit the ground. With the ground feeling muddy, the air feeling much warmer than it should have been, the smell of gunpowder and the stench of burnt rubber (wherever that was from), Italy wanted nothing more than to hold onto the one person he loved more than anything. Putting aside the killer within the German, putting aside the surface of a familiar monster, Feliciano rushed over and nearly tackled his blond-haired blue-eyed wonder.

"Ti amo, ti amo, ti amo," He said, again and again, repeating it like a broken record, touching his hands to Germany's face, feeling relief just at seeing him alive.

Feliciano kissed Ludwig's face, his cheeks, his jaw, his forehead, his slowly softening blue eyes. Then Ludwig apparently got tired of him missing the mark and pulled him close to press their lips together. A moment was had. Their moment. Even if they had only separated for a time, it felt like forever. The adrenaline was still pumping. The stress of the fighting, even if Feli himself had refused to raise a weapon...

It was like they _needed_ this moment. And still, in the back of his mind, he could still see that image of Ludwig as cold hard eyes stared back at the human who had been holding Italy like a hostage. He could still see that gun raise, still hear the sound of it firing. Still feel the human go limp, having been killed with barely a second thought. The cold hard serious face of Ludwig, the image he had been forced to become later on in the second world war. That monster.

Feliciano tried to force it back, but he began to tremble. Even holding on to his love, he began to wish he were somewhere else, wish he were home so he could break apart and cook something. They did break, but it was Germany who did it.

And something hit the ground near their feet, causing Italy to spring back, one hand on Ludwig's jacket as he instinctively hid from the attack. There was a gun in Germany's hand immediately and he was pointing it at the human base, looking for something to actually shoot. The attacks were coming from inside, above, but there was no one on the outside. There was...

Glancing around, Italy gulped, seeing a line of people, a small army filing out of the warehouse entrances. They had assembled. They were ready to -

"Arthur's barrier went down!" Spain shouted from where he stood.

They made a triangle. Prussia and Canada slightly behind Germany and Italy, if the human's warehouse was the front. Spain and Romano to the left, Romano with a gun finally and Spain holding his axe. England and America -

No, wait, England was walking toward them, moving forward, slowly but with a strange determined stance. And...was that steam rising around him?

Italy blinked, "What is he doing? What is that?"

Germany shook his head. "I have no idea, Feli. It's magic. That's all I know. That's all any of us know."

"B-but, he's never...Germany..."

Finally, England stopped moving. Arthur Kirkland, an English gentleman, but making a wintery night feel as cool as an autumn evening. Something shot towards him, but the magic man waved his arm and the bullets pinged and fell back after hitting the air just in front of the Englishman's face.

"He's alive," Arthur said, almost calling it out. His voice was too steady, though, too serious. Feliciano clung to Ludwig, trying to step away from both the Englishman and the humans. "However, I regret to inform you, this area will soon become very, very..." Arthur grinned then, looking almost mad. "...hot."

Both hands lifted. Something was said. An incantation. Something none of them could really hear or understand. Spain was shouting something, too. "Damn it, Arthur! You're going to kill yourself if you keep doing this!"

Feeling himself tremble, Italy tugged at Germany's sleeve. "Ludwig...stop him..."

But it was too late. An explosion rocked the ground, making everyone fall or at least stumble back. The warehouse was on fire, flames spreading faster than was technically possible. Snow was falling and the warehouse had been set ablaze. The humans were reacting as expected, racing around, trying to put it out – or fleeing. The important thing was that they were leaving, giving up on fighting the nations.

Italy stopped watching the humans, though, and turned his vision to England. Just in time to watch Arthur pass out. Feli cried out, not wanting to see the English gentleman hit the ground after everything...but Antonio was there. Spain caught England. Romano didn't look happy, but at least things were over.

Things were over. Solved.

Looking back to the fire, Italy grimaced. So much life... He didn't like to see people die... Not even if they were supposed to be enemies...

But at least they could call it completed now. Everyone was safe.

Finally, they could go home.

~!~

_A/N: Yeah, so there. I want to reassure all of you, but if I say anything it kind of ruins all the fun suspense. I told you things might get a little silly during the action scene, didn't I? Just a little..._

_Kairi: Ahh~! I love Aneki so much! This is ultra awesome! I flipping know what's gonna happen (though she added stuff in there that was just-agablagenen) and I'm still sitting here going 'Ho-Shit-what's gonna happen?!' Yesh. Also, fuck "My Heart Will Go On."_

_~~Thanks for all reviews/alerts/favorites~I appreciate every one!~~_

_~Reda_


	23. Chapter 23

**Author Notes****:**

-Sorry if this chapter is a little short. The next one has smut and I wanted to keep the smut in one chapter, so it would be easy for people to skip over, if they so choose.

-Spain's boss: prime minister or president; I don't know!

~!~

One Month

Chapter 23

~!~

"Do you even realize what danger that puts the whole nation in?"

"Si..." Spain sighed, shifting his feet, wishing he could at least sit down for these types of talks.

"What if you had gotten wounded? What if -?"

"Actually, technically I did," he amended, reaching up to touch his shoulder.

It was healed by now, though. The bullet hadn't taken long to remove. The skin had mended nicely. There wasn't even a scar. Like he had thought, it was a simple thing. He had been in worse condition before. Being a nation, he healed quickly; they all did.

Admitting so out loud never made his boss happy, though. It didn't even matter what time era, what boss; they all got upset when he left the country, when he put himself in danger, and especially when he got hurt – no matter how minor. He supposed it was better than being yelled at for protecting Romano, though, really, it was much the same situation.

"See, this is why I don't like it when you leave."

"Si, I know," Spain said, feeling like he'd said this five million times in his lifetime.

He shifted his feet again, groaning because his legs were starting to cramp. Sometimes he was allowed to sit during such lectures. Not usually, though. Most bosses would have you stand there and listen to their complaints. Stand there as they walked around, sat in a chair, stared out a window, whatever they liked to do, but no – he had to stand here. It was annoying but it was part of the job, part of having a leader. Human or not, he was tied to his boss, whichever boss.

If they found out about their power, though, it would be way too quickly overused. Monarchs had the most power. Monarchs could order a nation, force them to obey, like some kind of magic control, leaving the nation without any say. Monarch orders were the worst sometimes. But monarchs weren't the only ones with power. Any leader could give orders to the nation. It just depended how well liked or how much the people supported the leader, president in this case, on how much power he could have over a nation.

Still, as long as they didn't know about it, the nations were safe. Nowadays, leaders didn't give orders. It didn't fall off their tongue quite as easily as it did for the monarchs of the past. No, instead, they lectured. They talked and talked and talked some more. So full of words.

It was annoying sometimes.

"What did you even _do_ over there?"

Spain found himself sighing again. "We rescued Canada." He held his breath before mentioning Prussia. The rest of the world was still in the dark about their little ex-nation friend. Prussia had been officially dissolved; he should no longer exist; telling a leader about his very real still-here existence could stir up something they didn't want to deal with.

"From _what_?"

At this, Spain gave a little sheepish laugh, putting a hand behind his head. "A one-world-government that wants to kill us nations?"

He was waiting for his boss to explode on him. In fact, he could see it beginning. The man froze, facing away from him, hands behind his back. Silence stalked through the room. That awkward moment hit, the one right before a huge tongue-lashing. He was waiting for it, steeling himself. After all, he hadn't just put himself in danger as a human; he had put himself in danger as a nation. A group that wanted to see all nations die out, and he had walked right into their base, played the distraction (well, his boss didn't need to know about _that_)...

"Get out."

Spain blinked, dropping his arm. "Wha-?"

He didn't even get a chance to finish. "I said, get out. I've heard enough." It was clipped. Angry. His boss really _was_ about to explode, but he was kicking Spain out first, so apparently he didn't want to yell at the nation representative anymore.

Confused but compliant, Antonio gave a little shrug and turned on his heel, almost flying out of the president's room. His legs were shouting at him to sit down, but he kept walking. Briskly, moving as quick as he could without running. The staff and other members of government crawling about the building stared after him, but he had gotten good at ignoring them. They should be working anyway. If he had made it out of his boss's room without facing the full wrath, then he didn't want to press his luck any further.

Making his way out of the Moncloa Palace – the place where his boss currently resided – Spain gave a sigh of relief and started walking to the nearest metro system. He was free from his work early. Free to go home and cuddle Romano. He sighed happily, smiling as he walked, not caring for the stares from the humans.

Maybe he should buy something for Lovino. Without even debating it, Spain nodded his head, thanking himself for the wonderful idea, before taking a quick detour to buy some tomatoes – and other food ingredients for cooking this evening. He could almost smell the food.

After a much longer time than he had anticipated, Spain arrived at home. Honestly, the cashier at the store had made for great conversation; he did always like conversing with the local humans. He liked to hear their take on how the government was being run, on where the nation was heading, what their thoughts were on their current foreign affairs (that part he could actually do something about, so he liked to know). Besides that, though, he had missed the stop while on the train because, once again, he'd gotten caught up talking to this nice gentlemanly foreigner. A nice American for a change, who was a student on a trip trying to better learn the Spanish language (he did like talking to those who seemed so interested in his nation's language and history, after all).

Finally, though, he did manage to make it home, smiling cheerfully because the mortals had put him in a much better mood – and because he always liked to smile for Lovino. "Lovi, I'm home~"

He didn't get an answer, but he heard the television blaring in the other room and grinned, knowing exactly where to find his little tomato. Of course, he didn't get to see Romano's face, but he stepped up to the back of the couch, standing for just a moment. Watching Lovino sigh as he stared at the television, his hand holding the remote, sitting up but leaning on his arm all the same. Even without seeing his face, Antonio knew that Lovi looked cute.

Hanging the bag of tomatoes in front of Lovino, Spain kept his cheer going. "Lovi, I brought you something~"

It was amazing how fast Romano reacted. Snatching the bag away from Spain, he instantly started chewing on one of the delicious red foods. Spain smiled and was content to watch, loving how much it reminded him of Romano when he was younger. Still chewing on tomatoes, still making that adorable sound, and still puffing out his cheeks enough to make Spain want to poke him.

Leaning over, he ruffled the brown hair, being careful not too poke his hair curl. "You're so cute when you're eating."

"Ch-chigi!" Romano snapped around his mouthful. "Don't touch me, bastard."

Spain ignored that, seeing as his little tomato didn't move from his hand at all. "Of course," he said before hopping over the couch so he could sit next to Lovino and wrap his arms around him to cuddle close. "Did you enjoy our little adventure?"

Romano spluttered. "Enjoy? Adventure? The hell is wrong with you?"

"Aw, c'mon, Lovi, it all worked out in the end, didn't it? Happy endings mean it was fun, right?" He laughed, even as Romano disagreed with him.

~!~

Germany sat back against his couch. The lights were off. His dogs were nearby. Berlitz sleeping on the floor rug near the fireplace while Blackie and Aster sat his feet, begging for attention but being quiet about it. Quiet, like he preferred. Everything was done for the day. He didn't have work to catch up on, because his boss had seen fit to be understanding, requesting that he simply explain the details in person later.

He had a chance to relax. To breathe. To sit and do nothing. So he had changed into sweatpants and a white V-neck, spending most of his free time reading. Italy had stayed away since they'd returned. He assumed Feliciano had returned to his country to warn his own government about the movement. They all had a duty to report such things, after all.

But then the door opened and Feliciano soon found is way into Ludwig's living room, sitting down on the couch but not close. Keeping his distance. An alarm bell went off in Germany's mind. Italy was being quiet, too, only letting out a whispered, "V-ve..."

Since when did Italy come into the house, obviously wanting to talk about something, and then not say a word? Since when did he not try to cuddle, either? "What is wrong, Italy?" He looked to his little Italian, watching the face that wasn't looking up at him. "You have not been your usual self."

It was then that Feliciano looked up at him, his eyes not at all the happy-go-lucky he was used to. "Germany, how much do you love me?"

"Uh -" was all he could manage, blinking, stunned, not having expected that question in the least. Not now.

"Like, enough to kill somebody else?"

Closing his eyes, Germany sighed. Now, he understood. That moment must still be bothering him. "I will do anything to protect you – _anything_ – because that's how much I love you."

Feliciano looked away. "It's just...for a second back there you seemed like you..." he paused, chewing his bottom lip. "...like you weren't _you_ anymore."

He winced before he could check himself. "Yeah, you were in danger. I didn't care about anything else, then. Nothing else mattered."

"I just..." Italy looked up again. "What if it happens again, Germany?"

Assuming he was talking about Feli getting into trouble again, Ludwig let his eyes hardened, turned his head to face the wall, frowning, taking on a flat tone when he responded. "Then I do it all over again, if it means keeping you alive." Letting his eyes soften, he reached out to touch his lover's hand before whispering, "I would die if I lost you."

To his dismay, Italy pulled back. "That, right there, Germany. Please don't do that. It scares me."

Letting his hand hover in the air, Ludwig blinked. "I – I don't understand."

"You just got really serious, and it was almost like you were..." Italy drifted off, shaking his head. "It only lasted for a minute, but I still saw it."

"As if I were..." Ludwig blinked again, not really understanding where this was going. What was the problem? What was Italy so afraid of? What he done? What did he look like? He hadn't said something like this, since...and then it clicked. World War II era, near the end when things had been incredibly terrible, when he was at his worst. "Oh – I see." He crossed his arms and looked down, staring into the past, trying to think of how to correct this little issue.

Into the silence, Feliciano muttered, "I'm sorry..."

"Oh, don't be sorry; it _is_ a problem," Germany said, shaking his head. But he bit his own lip. "I just don't know how to fix it." How could he stop from being serious? Surely Italy was over-reacting, but he didn't want to scare his own love away. What was he supposed to do?

"Germany," Feli said, sitting up. "I still love you." Lips touched Ludwig's cheek and he glanced over to see his Italian now sitting closer, a hand on his arm. "Ti amo."

Their eyes met and Ludwig felt his face flush. "And that -" he said, clearing his throat before whispering, mostly to himself. "That's one reason I love you." The unpredictable size of Feli's heart. The unpredictable actions that led the Italian throughout his life. The complete unpredictable-_ness_ of Feliciano Vargas.

"What's that, Germany?" Feli asked, tilting his head and looking quite confused, the hair curl bouncing slightly at his head movement.

With a smile, Ludwig shook his head, resolving not to answer. Instead, feeling like the conflict had been solve, like the issue had reached an agreeable resolution, he leaned down and kissed his little Italian, mouths touching, sending a certain spark as if it had been forever since they had last been so intimate.

Feeling things growing, Ludwig pulled back. Upon seeing the blush on Feliciano's face, the desire, the need, he cleared his throat again before smirking and pulling him close. "_Mein bruder_ won't be interrupting us anymore," he whispered.

"Si," came Feliciano's simple response as the Italian slid into Germany's lap and kissed him again.

~!~

"But Iggy~ it's the final race of the season; there's bound to be tons of cool wrecks; you can't make me miss it all!" America complained again about having the remote stolen from him.

Sitting in his own bed, crossing his arms and pouting, Alfred F. Jones playfully glared at Arthur Kirkland as he was yet again denied his chance to watch television _in his own house_. Ever since he had been awake, he had been denied things. No going outside, hardly any permission to walk around the house on his own even. No making his own food. No rocking out to heavy metal and most certainly no watching T.V.

Sure, he had been shot in the head. Sure, he had only gotten to hear the story of how the rest of the group saved the day when he was knocked out of the action. Sure, he had been sitting in a hospital with frantic nurses and secret-service men asking questions. Arthur even said he had been visited by the President, which would have been totally cool because that guy only listened to him half the time.

But, he had woken up in his own house, in his own bed, with England sleeping in a chair next to the bed. Like Iggy didn't want to get in bed with him, as if England's tossing and turning would actually hurt him. He didn't know how many days it had been, really, but he could tell that Arthur was tired, yet happy to have him awake now. And his heart did feel warm realizing that Arthur had really stayed by his side when he'd been out of it.

"Absolutely not! And stop calling me that!" Arthur huffed, standing between him and the television. Not that it mattered. He had the remote. "It's a stupid sport anyway, even by your standards."

With a huff, America leaned back against the bed's headboard, reaching up to scratch at the bandage wrapped around his head before crossing his arms. "It is not! It's a lot better than freaking soccer."

"You just don't understand the game, is all, and it's called football, Alfred." Before America could respond, Iggy continued. "Really, you can't go five minutes without an explosion or someone getting hurt in some way."

"Duh! Explosions and getting hurt is what makes things interesting! In fact – that's what makes heroes so cool!" With a laugh, he pointed to his own head to help emphasize his point. "See, even I had to sacrifice and get hurt so we could save my brother – just like a hero."

He went back to pouting and Arthur just rolled his eyes at him. "I swear, sometimes I wonder how you made it to two-hundred."

"Because I had you," Alfred said, simply, like he was stating a fact, watching England's curious reaction.

Arthur's eyes widened and he blushed, as if the compliment had set him off. "I – well – that is -" With a sigh, Iggy walked around to where he was standing beside the bed instead of in front, handing the remote out, even if he wasn't making eye contact now. "Fine."

America snatched the remote with one hand, but used his other hand to grab Arthur's arm and pull him down, kissing the incredibly red blush on his lover's cheek. "I love it when you do that."

"And what exactly is 'that'?" Arthur asked after Alfred had managed to tug him down onto the bed with him.

With a grin and a shrug, America turned to the television. "Just something you do," he muttered, clicking the power button on the remote and eyes lighting up as he managed to luck out and get it on the right channel first try. When Arthur started pulling himself up to get off the bed, Alfred reached out and tugged at his shirt sleeve. "Watch with me?" It _was_ incredibly boring to watch a race by yourself, even if there were a lot of wrecks.

Next to him, England sighed, but he curled up more comfortably on the bed and was soon sitting next to America, forced to watch the race. He made some joke about how boring it was to watch them make left turns, but Alfred was quick to respond about how boring it was to watch a game with so little points on the screen. They playfully bickered for a few moments more, and as he talked about the drivers and cars and specific teams, he clasped hands with Arthur underneath the sheets.

As time continued to turn and the cars continued to make their left turns, Alfred noticed that the witty quips had stopped coming. Glancing over, he saw Arthur with his head lolling to the side, completely asleep. So, _that_ was why he had started to lean on him. With a smile, Alfred decided to let him sleep. After all, if it was true that he had used magic to save the day, then he had probably exhausted himself beyond his normal boundaries.

Squeezing his hand, Alfred leaned over and kissed Arthur on the cheek, whispering a heartfelt, "I think you were the hero this time."

~!~

_A/N: D'awww sappy sweetness everywhere. Like I said, a short chapter, but I wanted to separate the PruCan part because it kind of leads somewhere...so at least you know what to expect in the next chapter, hm?_

_~~Thanks for all reviews/alerts/favorites; I may not reply but I love reading them and I do appreciate them, so much!~~_

_~Reda_


	24. Chapter 24

**Author Notes****:**

-Yes, me and my sister role-played this scene. Do not judge us! It was incredibly awkward, but then after this we got incredibly less awkward with such scenes. Ah hah

**Warning****:**

-Sex. Smut. PruCan getting it on. Whatever you want to call it. Skip the chapter if you don't like it; I have it set up so you won't miss anything too important.

~!~

One Month

Chapter 24

~!~

A cry had him awake in a flash, sitting up in bed quickly, eyes wide, body tense, ready for the worst. His red eyes flicked around the room, taking in the quiet darkness, the sweet smell of maple even in the bedroom. His brain told him nothing was wrong. His heart took a while to stop beating so fast, and it did pull him to notice the man currently curled up in a ball next to him.

"No-no-no-no-no-no," Canada whispered repeatedly, holding his head and trembling slightly.

Prussia frowned, sighing as he fell back down, resting his head against the soft pillows once more. "Nightmare?"

Seeing as Birdie's back was to him, he couldn't look the man in the eyes at this point, only getting to see him nod his head slowly. At least the hands moved back down. "T-they won't stop..."

With an understanding nod, even if Canada couldn't see it, he reached an arm out to wrap around his Birdie. "Do you want to talk about it?" He asked, poking his chin into the blond hair.

"N-no, it's fine...I'll be fine..." The Canadian murmured, and even if the trembling stopped, as if Prussia's very touch was enough to calm him down – which made perfect sense cause he _was_ awesome like that – Gilbert could tell that Matthew was holding back.

He started to rub his cheek against his Birdie, amazed that he was allowed to be this close now. Sure, it had been some time since the one-world-government incident, and Canada had never really given him any other place to sleep. After all the kissing and cuddling they had done, it was probably only natural that they slept in the same bed, right? But he had been careful with pressing his luck. Being close when they were in danger, that was easy to pull off, but now that everything was back to normal...

Well, except for the nightmares. "You sure? Talking helps..."

He should know. He had nightmares all the time. Not that he had ever told anyone that.

Silence greeted him, so Gilbert was content to simply snuggle up against the little Canadian. Rubbing his cheek, closing his eyes, humming even to show his contentment. He kept waiting for his Birdie to toss him back, but it never happened.

In fact, Matthew started to talk. "I just...I keep having nightmares about if Germany _didn't_ save us...if we had gone back to Russia."

At the very mention of one of his own re-occurring nightmares, Prussia tensed. He felt his mouth go a little dry. Instinctively, he pulled Canada closer to him. "Yeah...?" His voice came out hoarse, so he cleared it and tried again, biting the edge of his tongue on purpose to generate enough saliva to fix the dry mouth. "Well, uh – I have those, too." He flinched again at the thought, squeezing his eyes shut as if he could simply squeeze the memory out of his mind. "I've had those for a long time." Drifting off, he snuggled deeper into Birdie's hair. "Sorry, I still don't know how to get rid of them."

_You should do what you tell him to do...talking helps._

_Tch. I am not talking about that. It would kill the mood._

_...what mood?_

"Really?" Canada whispered, sounding honestly shocked. "So you don't think I'm weak?"

With a yawn, Prussia mumbled, "Nope. Not at all." _Not because you have nightmares. Everyone has nightmares, dammit. _

_Even you, apparently._

_I said I wasn't going to talk about it._

_One of these days you will have to, you know._

_Not now._

"That makes me happy," Canada mumbled. "I was worried you would stop liking me."

Blinking his eyes open, Prussia found himself breathing on Matthew's neck, noticing a slight shiver from the man at every puff of breath. "Why would I stop liking you?" He huffed for an over-exaggerated effect, blowing cool air onto Canada's neck again, curious to see if the reaction would heighten. "I don't ever go back on what I say."

The shiver was definitely more noticeable this time. "I – well – I don't know. Just...paranoid."

With a grin, he continued. "Paranoid? Whatever for?" Curious to see how much more he could get away with, his tongue flicked out and licked up the exposed neck area.

A gasp was his reward. "G-Gil?" And a very confused Canadian, apparently. "What exactly are you doing?"

"Kesese~ Just messing with you," he said, moving his arm down to start poking at his Birdie's side, pulling the pajama shirt up to expose a little slice of skin, his fingers brushing across it in light touches, quick but light.

It made Birdie giggle. Hearing the light laughter, Prussia realized that his touches were a little more ticklish than the sensual he had been aiming for, but nonetheless he continued. He loved hearing Matthew's laugh. "G-Gil!"

"Whaaaaaat?" He said, still grinning, refusing to stop tickling, He even got a bit more daring, lifting up to nab an earlobe in his mouth, nibbling lightly.

He got a yelp and more laughter. "G-Gil! Cut it out!"

Pulling back, he chuckled, "Kesese~" Then he leaned forward and made an effort to drop his voice, whispering into Birdie's ear. "Did you say something?"

Finally, he got a full shudder in response, and from this angle he could see the blush on Canada's laughing face. "Stop! I-I can't b-breathe!"

Having pushed as far as he thought possible, Gilbert pulled back completely, hovering over him as Matthew rolled over to look up at him. "Okay, I'll stop."

"Y-you...meanie..." Birdie panted, sitting up but not looking directly at him.

"That the best comeback you got?" He teased, sitting up as he pulled back even more.

He brought his hands to his lap and sat cross-legged on the bed. Staring at the panting Canadian, he decided to wait. Wait and see if this was going to go anywhere. He wasn't going to ask, even if a certain part of him was craving it now. After all, it didn't take much from the Canadian to get him all riled up, on purpose or not. Still, he had been getting accustomed to holding back after all this time, so he would sit and wait.

Thankfully, he had waited long enough. "H-Hey...Gil?" Matthew asked, glancing away, his face still impossibly red.

Putting an elbow on his leg and his chin in his hand, Prussia grinned. "I'm listening."

"Uhm – well – I – uh – th-that is..." He took every nerve in his body not to laugh. His little virgin Birdie was so fucking adorable sometimes. "Wh-what you were doing...it – uh – it felt kind of...good..."

"Oh it did?" Prussia teased some more, purposefully playing slow, even though he was pretty sure his eyes had lit up. "Does that mean you want more?"

He got a nod. "Oui," and then a shake of the head and a correction. "I mean...maybe..."

"Maybe?" With a long sigh, he fell to the side and climbed off the bed. Poking around in one of his bags – which were still on the floor because he hadn't technically moved everything in even now – he pulled out a bottle of lube and made his way back to the bed. "How about this -" Having decided that he would be a little less forward to try to convince Canada, he asked, "Do you want to play a game?"

Of course, Canada didn't exactly understand the meaning, so his head tilted to the side and he blinked. "What?"

And of course the damnable cuteness made his super awesome manhood twitch in his pants. Holding himself back, he started to explain, "It goes like this." Setting the bottle to the side for now, he crawled closer to Canada, setting a hand on his chest and pushing his little Birdie back down. "You control everything. If you want to stop, you say so. If you want more, you say so. Anything you want, you tell me and I'll do it. Beyond that -" he smirked. "Enjoy yourself."

The blush returned, exploding across the Canadian's face, as he nodded slowly and fell back against the bed. "Th-that sounds good."

Finally having the permission for what his desires had been craving for so long, Prussia could feel his own need rising as he crawled on top of Matthew's nervous but willing body. His first act was simple enough. Simple and innocent, leaning down to kiss him full on the lips, poking with his tongue, licking at the soft lips now against his own. Meanwhile, he let his hand roam. Slowly, though, sneaking underneath Matthew's shirt, gently touching his side and staying away from what he knew now was a ticklish area.

Canada moaned, his mouth opening, eyes shutting as he allowed Gilbert's tongue into his cavern. Prussia didn't make it last too long, though, releasing the lips to move elsewhere. He started licking the jawline, nibbling his way down the Canadian's neck, loving every little groan he could pull from Matthew's lips. Every little twitch gave him the incentive to continue. Every little noise made him even more turned on.

Hands moved up, fastening in his hair. Prussia smirked against Canada's skin, his own fingers starting to pull up the red pajama top. His mouth made its way to a collarbone, sucking a little harder, earning a stronger shudder. Making love to a virgin was always the best because they were so sensitive; everything was such a new experience. But it wasn't just that part that Prussia loved; it was the lucky fact that he could be Canada's first; it made his heart feel all mushy to realize that Canada had waited so long and was opening himself up to _Prussia_. It made him feel awesome to know he had earned such trust; he hadn't had someone trust in him in so long...

"Q-quit teasing me...please..." The voice whispered into the night, though the blue-violet eyes never opened.

Prussia snorted, taking the opportunity to pull the pajama top off, wondering why on earth Canada would want to wear more than boxers to bed. Such clothing only seemed to get in the way. "Aw, but that's the fun part."

With the shirt off, Gilbert moved his hands lower, getting his finger to the waistband of Birdie's pants before he heard the whispered, "Wh-whatever you think."

He blinked, first, not understanding the comment at first. Then he realized how unsure Canada was about this whole deal, probably feeling nervous, so he leaned in and pecked him on the lips. "I forgot to mention the other rule." Leaning down further, he brought his mouth to an ear and whispered, "You can do whatever you want to me, only I'm not allowed to say 'no'."

He smirked then, kissed him once more, but letting this one last. Keeping him occupied, he started to tug at the pajama pants, massaging around his hips every so often, too. Holding his position like this was a little difficult, and he started leaning ever closer, especially when Canada's arms wrapped around his neck, forcing their kiss to deepen. It caused him to accidentally grind his erection against Matthew's, which made him lose a moan, covering it up with a growl.

Canada ended up breaking the kiss with a gasp, "G-Gil..."

Hearing his name underneath pants made a shiver slide all the way down his spine, closing his eyes and swallowing before gathering control again. He licked his lips and then forced himself to focus, moving back, tugging pants and underwear down, revealing the Canadian's already hard member, poking up into the cold air.

He felt hands hesitantly touch his hair and he went down enough to wrap his mouth around it, feeling Matthew's muscles tense underneath his fingers. Keeping his eyes open, he started to suck, making sure to watch Birdie's reaction, loving the feel of those usually soft fingers tugging so roughly at his white mess of hair.

"Ah! Gillllllbert," Mattie whined, throwing his head back, no longer caring.

Prussia could feel the heat in the room growing. It was definitely winter now, but he felt like it was the middle of summer. A little voice in his head reminded him that Canada's reactions were going to be twice as awesome as anyone else he had been with, even if everyone always complimented him on his kisses or his talent with his mouth. Still, it felt so incredibly good to do just the barest hint of movement, of teasing, and get such a huge reaction.

After a moment, he pulled back, sitting up and staring down at the shining body beneath him. His member twitched again in his boxers and he had to groan, reaching up to make Canada release his hair, gently setting those arms down beside him, even though other ideas hit him. Ideas of rope and bondage play and _no way _would he ever turn his kinks into someone else's first time.

Shaking his head, he pushed such thoughts away, sliding out of his boxers before reaching for the bottle of lube. He had given Birdie a taste of a blow-job, testing waters, liking what he received, but he didn't want to make the little virgin come too early. Most people couldn't do more than one round on their first time, so he didn't want to wear him out. Besides, he didn't want to share all his tricks on the first show.

Opening the lube, he poured some out into his hand, making sure his fingers were nice and slicked up. Then he sat back and poked a finger into Canada's entrance, watching his face, wincing when Matthew actually tensed up really bad and yelped. "W-wait!"

Pulling his finger back, he groaned, feeling like his vision was a little hazy now. He didn't want to stop now. He really didn't want to get this far only to have a virgin freak out moment, a second-thought moment. He _hated_ when that happened, but – he _had_ given all the control to Canada. And he didn't really want to upset him. So he pulled back and waited. "Hm?"

Blue-violet eyes looked up to meet his. "S-sorry. I just – sort of – freaked out there." The eyes looked away, the blush turning a dark pink across his nose. "I'm just really nervous."

Prussia let out a rush of air. "It's okay. We can stop, if you want." It was so hard to offer, so hard, and he could feel his own body twitching, wanting more, needing more.

Canada shook his head. "N-no, I'll be fine." Eyes looked back up him, gleaming in the moonlight. "Just be gentle, please?"

Feeling his own face flush – because _verdammt_ he had to be so cute, didn't he? - Prussia set his finger back to what they were doing, sliding in slowly. "Just relax."

He could see Matthew wince, squirming at the intrusion, not necessarily because of pain but because it felt strange. Shifting positions a little, he managed to lean forward to catch him in a kiss, catching the noise made when he added another finger, trying to be gentle and slow, trying so hard not to rush even as his own body felt like it was on fire.

Canada broke the kiss to murmur his name again, igniting even more flames into Prussia's already burning body. Trying to keep Birdie feeling comfortable, he started to cover him in more kisses. From his jaw to his neck to his collarbone and even down his chest, leaving little nips over the skin while his fingers continued to stretch and prepare.

A loud moan echoed through the room and Prussia grunted as Canada started to grind up against him, as if begging for more, as if unknowingly telling him he was ready. It was all the signal he needed. Sliding his fingers out, he grabbed the bottle of lube once more, making sure to cover his "5-meters" of awesomeness before lining it up and setting it against Canada's entrance.

"Just...relax..." he said again before slowly pushing in, feeling his own breath hitch at the warmth, at the tight warmth.

_Oh...gott..._

Suddenly, it felt like there were claws on his back, as Matthew's fingernails dug into his skin. "H-hurts," Birdie hissed, his eyes shut tightly.

Feeling that pain on his back was only more of a turn on, though, and he had to shudder as he forced himself to hold still. He had to let things adjust, had to give him time. "It will," he murmured, kissing Matthew's forehead. "It always hurts a little, but it will get better." His own breathing felt erratic; gott, he was going to go insane just sitting here like this. "Trust...me..."

A shiver from his Birdie only made him groan, but those strangely colored blue-violet eyes opened, wide yet hazy. "I – I trust you."

Prussia grinned, moving a little more, feeling a rush of pleasure spike when Mattie leaned back and shut his eyes, moaning his name again. He was panting, shivering, and it took every control in his body to keep himself slow. It had to be slow at first, gentle; he may have personally preferred rough but he was pretty sure Birdie wouldn't appreciate it. So, he forced himself to keep control, forced himself to be the nice guy.

The pace picked up naturally, but he continued to breathe heavy and watch Matthew's face, getting his signals from the Canadian underneath him. Arms stayed wrapped around him, fingers squeezing at the skin of his back, and _gott_ it felt amazing on so many levels. Finally getting a chance to see Canada like this. After all those times of incredible awkward turn on moments when he couldn't lift a finger. Now, he had him here, but there was so much more to it. More than he had experienced in a long, long time.

There was just one thing missing. He wasn't hitting it right. The angle must be off.

Stopping his pace, he panted. "Hang on – lift your leg for me," he said, grabbing the leg to the left and working with Canada to lift it up, setting it in the crook of his arm.

"Wh-what's wrong...?" Looking back to his Birdie, he saw the confused worry.

So he shook his head and smiled, using his free arm to place a finger on Canada's lips. "Nothing. It's on me."

He didn't say anymore now that he had this new position. There was more room to move. More room to find the perfect angle. He started to thrust again, grunting and breathing hard, feeling the sweat starting to form and drip across his chest. The arms were no longer around him because he had sat up, but he could see Matthew clenching the sheets and he could imagine. At first, he didn't get much of a different reaction.

Then, he shifted his legs and everything changed. A loud cry escaped out of Birdie's mouth, piercing, unintelligible. He could feel the body underneath him shudder, and he smirked.

_Found it._

Gathering more force, he aimed for the same place, thrusting it hard and deep. Another cry. It sounded amazing. Hearing his name like that... "H-hah..." he panted, leaning over, putting his face right in front of Matthew's. "_Gott..._you feel so good, Birdie."

A moan and another cry was response, followed by, "Ah – s-so...do you..." Canada reached up then and pulled Prussia's face down, forcing their lips together, crying out in his mouth.

It wasn't what he had been expecting. He had been expecting Canada to just sit there and take it, but he was being proven wrong yet again. Fingers were playing with his hair, one hand on the back of his neck, keeping him down. Even his hips were bucking up, finding his rhythm and then matching it. It was making Gilbert grow closer and closer to his edge; he was moaning back into his Birdie's mouth without a care in the world now. He was losing it. He was about to lose it.

_Gott, no, not before -_

He froze, groaning even as he forced himself to be still, shutting his eyes, concentrating hard to keep everything down, trying to think of something disgusting to make the heat lower. Something to keep this going. He wanted to keep it going. His own hands were clenched in the bed sheets.

"Ah – shit -"

But then Matthew bucked up against him one more time, sending tremors through his body, and his Birdie came with a cry. Seeing his moment, Prussia reacted and rode out the last of Matthew's orgasm, thrusting in him quickly, making himself release only a few seconds later. It sent more feelings through him than he could remember experiencing. The very knowledge that he was leaving a piece of himself in his Birdie; the very knowledge that he had officially been the first. That Canada loved and trusted him...

Coming down from the high, he sighed loudly, flopping on top of Canada. Birdie ran fingers through his hair, making him hum a little even as he tried to catch his breath, but then Matthew dropped his arms to the bed. Seeing as that was usually a sign to get up, Prussia pulled himself up by his hands, leaning over to kiss Birdie on the lips quickly one more time before pulling out and rolling over to lay next to him, still panting as he fought to get his breath.

"So..."

"Merci," came Canada's response, smiling, turning his head but not making eye contact. "That was great."

Of course that only made him feel even more super awesome than normal. Grinning, he brought his hands behind his head, laying on his back and laughing at the ceiling. "Kesese..."

Birdie leaned close, nuzzling against his chest; his face felt warm even now. "Je t'aime."

Prussia scoffed. "What the hell does that even mean?" _Fucking French..._

_Oh come now, I taught you that one._

_Yeah, so I forgot._

_You should have remembered all the French I spoke around you._

Spending so much mental time speaking with the voice of Fritz, he missed Canada's flinch, but he heard the whispered. "It means...I love you."

"Ah -" _Oh... _"Well then..." He brought his arms down, setting one around Matthew. "Je t – Je..." He could feel his eye twitching, his face blushing, and he could hear Fritz laughing at him. "Fucking French," he mumbled. "I love you, too."

"Gil, how do you say it in German?"

"Huh?" He blinked. No one asked for German translations. Everyone preferred English or _prettier_ languages these days. "Uh...Ich liebe dich."

There was a pause, and he was certain Canada was going to laugh. Most foreigners did because to them, the German words for _'I love you'_ sounded harsh. "Ich liebe dich," Matthew repeated, his accent way too _nice_ to be correct. "I like it."

"Y-yeah?" He blinked, yet again surprised.

"Oui, I really like your language."

_Hah! Hah! See, Fritz, it's a great language after all!_

_Whatever, love._

_Yeah, well, whatever right back at you! Birdie thinks it's awesome, so it's awesome! _

Feeling Matthew's breathing changing, as if he were falling asleep, Gilbert smiled softly and let his hand rub his back. "No more nightmares, okay?"

He got a little nod and a whispered, breathy, "Yeah..."

The smile stayed on his face, even as he closed his eyes and started to drift into the common good dreams of his favorite old king from his glory days. _Hey, Fritz..._

_Hm?_

_I think I'm happy..._

In his dreaming mind, he could almost see Old Fritz smile. _I'm glad. Stay that way. He's good for you._

~!~

_A/N: … SEX. And FRITZ. LOVABLE FUCKING FRITZ. Sorry, I can't help it, really. (By the way, it's not over yet! There's still a little something left to do.)_

_Kairi: **-**clears throat- If you have read up to this point, I have a very important statement to say to you … EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU IS A PERV! HAHAhaha...haa...no, but seriously, was that hot or what? Eh? Ehhh?_

_~~Thanks for all reviews/alerts/favorites ~ Like always, I appreciate them! :D ~~_

_~Reda_


	25. Chapter 25

**Author Notes****:**

- Seriously, it's not over ~ Fake ending is fake ~

- The question is: what does Prussia do when his one month time is over?

- This is one of those chapters where I wonder "why did we do this again" argh! But then, it's a good preview of what happens in the sequel, so ~ but seriously...you are all going to hate me...and probably Prussia...quite a lot...just warning you...

~!~

One Month

Chapter 25

~!~

There was a bird tweeting in the air when he woke up. That and the sound of a certain someone's voice incredibly close. He was still half asleep when he yawned. "What is it, Gil?"

"It's freaking cold..." he heard, feeling Prussia curling up against him. "You're warm though."

He started to blush as he opened his eyes, not accustomed to someone cuddling against him. Kumajiro, maybe, but another person? It was nice, but awkward. Especially after just waking up...which meant he was sharing a bed with Prussia...and...last night came back to him in a rush and he started to blush harder.

"I-it's not that cold, you know." His eyes widened when he realized he was naked and sleeping on _top_ of the covers. He could feel his face warm ridiculously, because Prussia was stark naked, too. "U-um. Maybe you should get some clothes on."

"Oh no, this is fine," Gilbert commented, cuddling in closer if anything.

Seeing as the pale skin was still shivering, Canada narrowed his eyes. "I know you're still cold."

"Oh? How can you tell?"

_Because it's obvious..._

Before the words could break his lips though, he changed his mind, smiling and reaching out to pet the silver hair. "Because I know you." He blushed again; his eyes kept going to that certain exposed area he hadn't ever expected to see from another man. "Now please, get some clothes on."

"You're no fun," Prussia said, pulling back and sticking his tongue out. But, he did get up and stretch, grabbing some clothes as he started to walk to the bathroom. "Guess I'll take a shower." Then Gilbert said the most absurd thing, turning around to grin. "No peeking~"

Canada jumped up, staring at those red eyes. "O-of course I wouldn't -" He cut himself off, having found that his eyes were yet again wandering down.

The blush grew hotter and Prussia disappeared into the bathroom with a sarcastic, "Sure," before shutting the door.

With a sigh, Matthew closed his eyes, shaking his head as he tried to keep his mind from going crazy places. One time and he was already turning into a pervert. Was that really what happened after your first? Did you crave more all the time? Because it was so amazing... So unexplainable in so many ways. He was so glad he had saved it, so glad he had waited; he trusted Gilbert to stay with him forever.

He could still hear the bird chirp that had caused him to wake up at first, and hearing it so close, made him start looking around. It sounded like it was inside of all things. Prussia _did_ have a bird, but what would it be doing - ?

Finally turning around, he caught the little yellow ball of fluff chirping and ruffling feathers as it sat on the bed's headboard. "Uhm..." He blinked, wondering if this bird had been standing there the whole time they... "How long have you been standing there?"

The bird simply hopped along the headboard, chirping as if he was answering the question. It almost sounded like an innocent whistle, too. Matthew sighed and shook his head. "Yeah, sure, I'll believe you." With another peep, the yellow bird flew up in the air and then settled in his hair. Canada giggled, not having expected the bird to treat him the same as Prussia. "You're cute."

Come to think of it, the bird was a lot smarter than a normal animal. He was almost like Kuma. Heck, it was apparently because of this little bird that they had been saved. If not for Gil's bird being so connected to Gilbert, they probably _would_ be in Russia now. He shivered and then felt the bird hopping around on his head, and he laughed.

"I wonder if I should make some pancakes." Hearing the bird tweet happily, almost like he was singing a cheerful song, Matthew laughed again. "I'm sure Gil would enjoy it, too."

With a stretch and a yawn of his own, Canada climbed out of bed and started pulling clothes out to get dressed. "Have you seen Kumataro anywhere?" He heard a single chirp and then saw the bird fly over to the edge of the bed, hopping around and poking at the covers. Raising an eyebrow, he slipped into his clothes. "Is that a yes?" When the bird continued to hop around, he sighed. "Whatever, he'll show up once I make the pancakes."

Once he managed to get dressed, he quickly made his way to the kitchen. Pancakes made for a good breakfast, _and_ he could find a way to get back at Gilbert for leaving the house in such a mess. Hiding the syrup. He grinned even as he grabbed the bottle and put it in his apron pocket – for now. Meaning well or not, letting everyone into his house had turned it into a wreck. It was wonderful being home, but it had taken more effort than he thought it would to clean everything up and get it looking back to normal.

What he hadn't counted on, was Gilbert's absolute horrendous skills at cleaning up. After forcing the man to work, he had then been showered with more broken dishes or extra scuffed tiles or dirty hand prints all over a door he had _just_ finished cleaning... Yeah, he had learned quickly. Gilbert Beilschmidt, the "great and awesome" Prussia, did not know the first thing about keeping things tidy.

Sighing at the memory, Canada shook his head and focused instead on making up some pancake batter. Food first. Then his little revenge would come later. As he worked, he started to hum an old song he could remember from his childhood. Something France used to sing. Not that he would remember the name.

But then a voice was at his ear. "My music's better." Followed by a pair of lips touching his exposed neck.

He yelped and felt his body shiver, remembering last night. "Sorry for not growing up with it," he said.

"You'll learn if you hang with me long enough," Prussia said, hands reaching around to wrap around Canada, voice still close to his ear. "Can you still cook like this?"

With a blush, he gave a nod. "O-Oui."

To his surprise, though, it didn't last. Prussia soon yelped, and then dropped his grip and moved away. Before Canada could ask what happened, Gilbert growled, "Stupid bear."

Immediately understanding, Matthew turned around with a sigh. "Be nice. Both of you." Leaning down, he picked up the polar bear, and on his way back up got a good view of the shirt Prussia had decided to wear today. A shirt depicting a rainbow colored pony with the words "20% cooler." He groaned, knowing exactly what it was from. "Not you, too."

Gilbert was sticking his tongue out at the bear but Canada's groan caused him to blink. "What do you mean?"

With a sigh, Matthew set Kumajiro down on the kitchen counter, turning away from Prussia and his rainbow pony shirt. "Please tell me you don't actually watch that show. I hear enough of it from Al," he muttered, focusing back on the pancakes and trying to erase the image of seeing the albino in a _pony_ shirt of all things.

"What's wrong with it?" He could hear Gil get defensive. "It's awesome! It's something America did right!"

With another groan, Matthew shook his head. "It's a show for little girls..."

"It is not!" Prussia exclaimed, the sound of a strange light tweeting making him think of Gilbird laughing. "You shut up!" Yes, definitely Gilbird laughing.

He giggled. "It seems Gilbird agrees with me."

Hearing the bird chirp sweetly, he could only laugh when Prussia snapped at it. "You traitor! I should have never -" More chirps and then Prussia grumbled, pulling a chair out, making Canada cringe as he heard the legs scrape along the floor. "Stupid animals."

Finding himself giggling, he turned back around, two plates of pancakes ready. "I think they're adorable." Glancing to the polar bear, he amended his statement. "Well, when they want to be." Seeing that Gil had decided to sit backwards in his chair, when he started reaching out for his plate, Matthew smirked and placed the plate on the table. "Here, and if you want syrup, you'll have to find it."

It made Prussia sit up, blinking his eyes. "What? Are you -" When Canada winked and made his way over to the other side of the table, sitting down with his own plate of pancakes, Prussia gaped. "You're serious." Keeping his face as still as possible, he nodded, pleased when Gil grinned. "Birdie's got a game," the albino said, laughing as he stood up. "All right. I'll bite."

Matthew watched as his albino lover started bouncing around the kitchen, pulling open the bread cabinet, searching around jars and anything else sitting on the kitchen counter, coming up empty-handed at everything unturned. "Call it payback for letting everyone in my house."

He was pleased to see the Prussian stop where he was, freezing as the reason behind this 'game' finally clicked. "Aw, c'mon, Birdie, I was drunk..."

While Gilbert started opening the cupboards, searching for the syrup and still coming up empty, Matthew reached into his apron pocket and quickly poured syrup over his breakfast, closing it as quietly as possible and shoving the bottle under the table before he started eating his own pancakes. "The place was an entire mess."

Groaning, Gil turned back around, a hand in his hair. "Aw, Birdie, that's not my fault."

"_You_ had a key and _you_ let them in," Matthew said, poking his fork accusingly toward the albino. "So, it _is_ your fault."

"Heh...But I -" The red eyes widened as they seemed to notice the sugary goodness coating Mattie's plate. "Hey! You -!"

"Hm?" Canada said, tilting his head in mock innocence.

He nearly laughed at the eye twitch. "Oh I get it." But then Gilbert's mood changed as the albino smoothly slid into place behind Matthew's chair. "I think I know where you're hiding it."

Lifting his head to look up at him, he felt his body grow tense and wary, knowing the sly look in those red eyes meant the albino was about to do something unexpected. "Oh, really? Where is it then?"

"Right here!" Prussia exclaimed, his hands diving down and reaching into Canada's shirt, feeling around his skin as if Matthew would hide it under his clothes or something.

Yelping at the sudden intrusion, he felt his face blush. "H-hey!"

He could hear Gilbird laughing again. Strange, that he could know when a bird was laughing. Prussia seemed to freeze, but only for a moment. Those pale hands started reaching elsewhere, heading lower. "I think I know where to find some sweet syrup."

Feeling his eyes widen – the very _idea_ of doing something in the _kitchen_ – Matthew snapped, "All right, all right! I'll tell you where the syrup is!"

Letting out a breath in relief when Prussia removed his hands, he ignored the triumphant laughter, "Kesese~ I knew you would."

With a sigh, he leaned down, reached under the table, and pulled the bottle out, tossing it to him. "Here. But you better hurry. Kuma's been eating your pancakes."

Returning to his own food, Canada grinned around the fork at Gil's exclamation. "What? Stupid bear!" It was still hilarious when Prussia rushed over to the other side of the table and grabbed at the polar bear, picking him up and shaking him. "Stop eating my food you _stupid bear_."

Sighing, Matthew mumbled around his fork. "Put him down, Gil. He got what he wanted."

With a growl, the albino set the bear down before flopping down in his chair, looking positively upset as he stared at the now empty plate. "Hrm," he grumbled, lifting the syrup bottle to his mouth as if he were going to eat the maple syrup alone.

At first his eyes widened, then he shook his head and sighed..._again_. "Please don't waste it all."

"Not wasted if I eat it," Prussia mumbled around the bottle as he started to suck, still looking ridiculously upset over something so trivial.

Rolling his eyes, Matthew set his fork down and pushed the plate away, picking up a fake tone in his voice. "Oh no, it seems as though I am too full to finish my breakfast." Then he smiled, especially pleased to see Gilbert's eyes light up.

"All right!" Gil said, perking up immediately and reaching out to grab the plate, pausing only when he was about to drown his food in that syrup he loved so much. "You sure?"

"Oui, it's fine," Matthew said, trying to keep his smile, but wincing when the memory of sharing a bowl of rice with the albino came back to him.

He could feel the red eyes staring at him, and he started praying that Gil wouldn't say anything about it. He didn't want to talk about it. Of course, he couldn't stop thinking about it _now_. And Prussia seemed to understanding, simply returning to the plate of food in front of him. "Your food is the best, Birdie."

Smiling at the compliment, he took a breath and muttered, "Merci. It's not that great though."

The damn memory kept coming back to, and the feeling of it. The poison. The pain. He almost whimpered, biting his lip to keep it back. It would be stupid to let something like a _memory_ bug him this much. But he couldn't help it. Even thinking about the food he had just eaten, thinking about sharing with Gilbert...it was...

"Sure it is," Prussia was saying, wolfing down the last of the pancakes before noticing what Canada was trying so hard to fight. "Something wrong?"

Looking away, he shut his eyes, but that only made it worse. "N-no. I'm fine..."

"Birdie? I can't fix it if you don't talk to me."

Opening his eyes, he found himself staring right at a frowning silver-haired red-eyed concerned Prussian. "I – I just can't forget, Gilbert. No matter how hard I try."

The man put his elbows on the table, leaning his chin into his hands as he stared back at Canada. "Well, talk to me. Just...talk to me."

"That night. When they gave us food." He shook his head, staring down at the table. "It's so hard to eat after that."

"Ah, but if you cook it, then it can't be poisoned, would it? I mean, I could understand if you didn't want to eat out anymore, but..."

"It's not like that, Gil," Matthew whispered, his hands moving to wrap around his stomach, wishing the stupid pain would just go away, trying so hard to push it away, trying to be strong. "Every time I eat something, I remember everything that happened. And it scares me..."

To his surprise, he soon found Gilbert crouching down on the floor beside his chair, looking up at him. "Memories...suck sometimes."

Looking back at him, Matthew mumbled, "I just...I want everything to go back to the way it was."

Again, to his surprise, Prussia looked down, mumbling his own words. "That's not possible." His gaze turned to the side, the red eyes narrowing. "Believe me, I've wished that for a long time."

Suddenly understanding how selfish it was to wish such a thing, Canada flinched back. "I'm sorry. I – I forgot."

But then, Prussia surprised him – _again_, looking back at him and grinning so wide his eyes closed. "Oh it's fine." There was a pause, a hand touching his leg. "That's the past right? And without that, we might not have met...right?"

Staring back at him, Matthew blinked before smiling lightly. "That's true..."

"So – uh – yeah -" Gilbert stuttered before giving up on talking altogether and leaning over, resting his head in Canada's lap.

It was a strange way to comfort someone, and it made Matthew's eyes widen. But then he smiled. His Gilbert was a strange one, and he wouldn't have it any other way. Besides, reaching down to pet the silver hair...it felt nice. It was like a distraction, especially when Gil gave a content sigh.

"See? Just push the bad stuff to the side and think only of the good. It'll be all right eventually."

_Is that how you get through it all? Is that you manage to stay so energetic after everything that's happened to you?_

"Oui. That sounds like the best thing to do," Canada said as an answer.

"Of course it is," Prussia muttered, not even moving from his spot, as if he were actually getting comfortable. "Mmm...you're nice and warm."

Blushing, Matthew blinked, but he continued to pet the silver hair, finding that he liked making the strange albino happy. "Merci..." he muttered, not knowing what else to say to such a comment. "Your hair's really soft."

"That's a new one," Gilbert said before sighing again. "Mmm...I feel like a spoiled kitten."

Unable to help himself, Matthew giggled at the very _idea_ of the crazy Prussian being compared to such a cute animal. "I never thought you would compare yourself to a kitten of all things."

"Why not?" Gil asked as he nuzzled deeper into Mattie's lap. "Cats are awesome enough."

"Well, I was expecting something along the lines of a dog. Cats are a little graceful for someone like you."

He could feel the man's shoulders slump as he pouted. "Not graceful enough? Aw...then what animal would I be, according to you?"

"Ah, well, that's a hard one," Matthew said, closing his eyes as he tried to think of a good fit. "Probably something like...a raven?"

This caused the albino to lift his head and blink. "A raven? Why?"

Opening his eyes to smile at Gilbert, he shrugged. "I guess because of the Prussian Eagle."

An awkward moment of silence passed between them, as if the words were taking a while to sink in. Canada blinked. Prussia stared back at him. And then Matthew suddenly found the chair teetering back dangerously as Gilbert basically jumped on top of him in excitement, grinning wildly, pulling him into a hug. "You really _do _understand."

"O-Of course I understand -" he yelped, the chair falling back and causing a slight pain to run up his spinal cord at hitting the floor. "O-ow.."

"Kesese~" And Prussia just laughed, like he was completely content in this awkward position. "Thanks," he muttered before locking their lips together.

Kissing back, Canada responded. "Y-you're welcome."

~!~

He didn't want to break the kiss. He really didn't. He was enjoying himself. Gilbird was flying around them, tweeting like mad, enjoying himself as well. But even as he kissed Canada, a little noise went off in the background, demanding to be heard. Prussia had decided to ignore it. A phone call would not be a good sign. Not now. He knew exactly what they would be calling about and he didn't want to face it.

The month was over and he hadn't asked to stay. He didn't want to assume. He was waiting for Canada to say something, but it never came. So, he just wanted to sit here and make this moment last forever. Even if the month was over. Even if it was technically time to go home. Even if he hadn't been asked to stay, as much as he had been hoping for it, waiting for it. All he needed was one word. But Canada hadn't said a word.

Not one.

So, Prussia followed his own advice and pushed it to the back of his mind, thinking only of the here and now and how good it felt to be with this silly little Canadian. Of course, even the awesome Prussia needed to breathe, so their kiss broke apart, just as the phone was ringing again. He tried to ignore it again, but Canada stopped him, a hand on his mouth.

"You should answer that. It might be important."

Pouting, Prussia refused to move. He stayed where he was, sitting on top of Birdie, his hands on the floor on either side of the beautiful man beneath him. "But I don't wanna move," he whined.

That was when the cute little Birdie narrowed his eyes. "Answer it, or I won't give you pancakes for a week."

Rolling off of him, Prussia felt his eyes widen. "You wouldn't..."

"I would and you're running out of time," Matthew emphasized, his cute smile not doing anything for Prussia's will.

Groaning again, Gilbert finally stood up and raced to catch his phone. "All right, all right, I'm going!"

He made it to the living room, frowning as he picked his phone up. Underneath the phone sat his plane ticket, the one he had gotten when he first decided to come here. A trip here. A trip back home. One month. It was time. Damn it, he didn't think he would regret it this much.

Snatching the ticket from the mantle, he snapped his phone open and growled, "Ja? Who is this?"

He was not at all happy to hear Italy's voice on the other end. "Ve~ Prussia~ Your month's over and Germany and I will be waiting for you at the airport."

"Right. I almost forgot," he lied. It had been on his mind all day. Glancing to the kitchen, he was reminded of how he was still waiting on Canada. Still waiting for his Birdie to ask him to stay. He had thought for sure... "Wait, why the fuck are you calling me?"

Italy's voice responded in his usual sing-song answer. "Well, Germany told me that you probably forgot, and we wanted to make sure you knew~" There was a pause, and when Italy's voice came again, it was not sing-song at all. "Unless you want to stay over there, that is."

_I do! I do but..._

"Tch. Right. Stay over." One last longing look around the room and he let out a long drawn out sigh. "No...I guess I'll see you there..."

He didn't even wait to hear Italy's answer, hanging the phone up with a snap. "Is everything okay?"

Canada's voice startled him and he couldn't even make himself look at the blue-violet eyes when he raised his head. "Ja," he muttered, a lie. His fingers clenched the ticket and he took a breath. "Well..." and then let it out, shaking his head, giving up the thought of asking to stay himself.

"What...what is that...?"

At Matthew's question, Prussia looked down at the plane ticket in his hand, giving a nonchalant shrug. "It's my ticket to go back. You know...one month."

He could hear the Canadian's breath catch. "When...when are you going back?"

"Uh...today?"

_Say something. Say something. Anything, dammit. _

"Oh – uhm – t-today..." There was a pause. Shuffling of feet. Then a shout. "Then just go already!" Followed by a door slam.

Prussia winced.

_Not that. Why that? _

_Just ask him to stay you idiot. You both want it._

_But I can't. Isn't that considered rude? I was only allowed over here for a month. Everyone else always kicks me out...This is no different..._

Groaning, Prussia made his way to the bedroom door, putting his hands on it and leaning his forehead against it. "Hey – Birdie? My stuff -"

He was interrupted by the door opening and a bottle being thrown at his head, followed by the door once again slamming closed and the sound of it locking, too. He grimaced and rubbed his head, bending down to pick up the bottle of lube, wincing again just at seeing what Canada had thrown at him.

"Just go! I'm sure your brother can buy you some more stuff!"

"No, he won't buy anything for me," Gilbert groaned. "Just give me my stuff back and I'll be out of your way. I promise." It took a while. A good long couple seconds. But finally the door creaked open, allowing Prussia to walk in and start gathering his things, as much as it was killing him to do so. "I – I guess it's too late to ask if I can visit again?"

"What, like a fuck-buddy or something? Yes, it's way too late."

Not wanting to see the obvious hurt or sneer or whatever the hell Matthew was feeling right now, Prussia made sure to stay focused on his task. He'd heard this one before, too. Heck, everyone always made a jab at his promiscuity when kicking him out. But to think that Matthew – to think that Gilbert would even use Canada for such a reason... The knowledge that Birdie _thought_ that was enough to make him tense up and cringe.

"No, that's not what I..."

"Just shut up and get out!"

Finding himself cringing yet again, Prussia gathered his things and made his way outside, giving Canada one long last look. "I -" he almost managed to say it. _Almost_. But his brain started to second guess things and seeing Matthew turn his back... He clenched his jaw and stomped out, glaring at the snow sitting all puffy and cute on the ground. "I hate the cold anyway."

"_You idiot! Get back there!" _Gilbird was in his hair, tugging, yelling at him, tweeting ridiculously fast.

"Why?" He snapped at his bird, continuing to walk down the street and away from the place he had come to love over this past month. "He made it pretty clear he doesn't want me there."

"_That's because he thinks you want to leave! What about everything you did to keep him safe?"_

Still walking, Prussia shook his head, trying to get the bird to stop pulling on his hair. "Why would he think I _wanted_ to leave? I've had this ticket to go back since the beginning. It's always been there. It's always been the deal..."

"_That's just it! You didn't ask to stay and instead you asked for your stuff!"_

Kicking at the snow, Prussia continued on, talking to his bird, not caring at all for the strange looks he was getting from the townsfolk. "How am I supposed to ask to stay? Isn't that considered rude over here? Keh...Just shut up and leave me alone." And then Gilbird shrieked, tugging one more time before flying away back toward Canada's house. "Hey! Are you coming back with me or are you just going to fly on your own?"

Scoffing at the bird, Prussia walked a few more steps, only to have the yellow chick land on his shoulder, obviously still upset but giving in. _"I was hoping you would follow me back."_

"Keh. Whatever. Forget about it. I'm going home."

_Home..._

_Where is home for you? If you're going to turn into a coward and run away just because of a misunderstanding -_

_Shut. Up. I don't need an argument with the voices in my head today. I'm. Going. Home._

_...I think you're walking away from home right now..._

~!~

_A/N: GAH! It's SO stupid, right? The BIGGEST misunderstanding example of reader's know what characters do not. I hate writing this part. I really do. It's so ridiculous on both ends. THIS IS WHY YOU MUST TALK WITH YOUR PARTNERS! BECAUSE EVERYONE HAS STUPID MISUNDERSTANDINGS BECAUSE NO ONE WANTS TO TALK ABOUT THINGS. Anyway, uh, two more chapters? (And let's all join Gilbird in beating up stupid stupid stupid Prussia, kay?)_


	26. Chapter 26

**Author Notes****:**

-If you don't hate me by now, you will in the sequel. Oh my god, you will hate me so MUCH in the sequel. Anyway, moving on. Time for Italy and Germany to knock some sense into Prussia ;D

~!~

One Month

Chapter 26

~!~

It was raining when they went to pick Prussia up from the airport. Italy didn't mind it, really. He loved the rain. Even if it was really cold and should have been snowing. He had been quiet on the drive, letting Germany have his concentration to navigate the busy roads. With rain, driving was dangerous enough. With the weather cold enough to make the rain turn to ice, it was even more so. Italy knew when to shut his mouth.

The strange thing was, now that they had Prussia in the car, it was still quiet. He had expected the albino to be just as rowdy and obnoxious as usual, or at least be complaining about how Italy got the passenger seat and Prussia had to sit in the back like some child. But it was quiet. Too quiet.

In fact, it was beginning to set Feliciano on edge. He didn't like it when there were these awkward silences. Turning around in his seat, completely ignoring the fact that he hadn't put on his seat beat, he stared at the albino who was busy staring out the window, as if the rain falling on the glass was the most interesting thing in the world right now.

"Prussia, you've been really quiet. Is something wrong?"

He continued to stare as the usually hyperactive albino slumped back in his seat, eyes still staring out at the rainy world. "I'm fine."

"Italy, put your seat belt on," Germany said, interrupting everything.

With a pout, Feliciano turned to the German who was still focused on driving through the Berlin streets. "But I don't want to," he said, turning back to Prussia. "But you don't look fine. Ve, did something happen between you and Canada? Is that why you're not over there right now?"

He watched as Prussia's eyes closed, as the jaw clenched, eyebrow twitching. It was strange. He had thought Prussia and Canada would stay together forever. He had expected Gilbert to tell him not to worry about picking him up today. Something must have happened. Something.

"I said I'm fine!" Prussia snapped.

Germany was quick to respond, still focused on the road but glancing into the rear-view mirror. "_Bruder_, don't yell in the car." When Prussia simply turned his gaze back to the window, Ludwig glanced over to Feliciano. "Italy. Seat belt. It's not safe."

"But it's no fun, Germany~" Italy pouted.

Ludwig sighed. "Safe is not always fun."

And then Gilbert spoke up from the back seat. "Oh come on, West. Lighten up. No one wears their seat belt anymore."

Italy grinned at first and then blinked, realizing something was off. "Wait...Prussia, what did you just say?"

"What? Did I say something strange?"

"Si," Feliciano nodded. "You never agree with me." He blinked and then gulped, taking the seat belt and buckling up right away. It must be some kind of omen if Gilbert was standing up for him against his brother.

Seeing him buckle up, Germany smiled. "Thank you, Feli." Prussia scoffed, lying down in the back seat, clearly not buckled up either. "_Bruder..._" Of course, Ludwig didn't press it. Convincing Prussia to do something was hard enough in normal circumstances.

Now turning awkwardly with the seat belt rubbing against his neck, Italy stared at the albino who was lying in the back seat, looking at something on his phone. "Aren't you worried about him at all?" he muttered, glancing to Germany with a frown.

Ludwig winced. "Yeah, but I can't help if he doesn't want to talk about it."

Sighing, Italy turned his attention back to Prussia. There was no way he would give up so easily. "Hey, Prussia, what happened between you two?"

When Gilbert refused to talk to him, Germany sighed. "See? He won't talk about it."

With a pout, he faced his German lover again. "But I want to help! And something obviously happened between them!" He blinked, an idea coming to him, and his eyes widened as he looked back to Prussia. "Did you guys do it?"

Seeing the albino blush was his first clue. When Prussia dropped his phone, it was his second clue. And then the scowl and glare and snappy retort. "Why do you care?" That was his third clue.

He grinned. "Ve ~ You did~" Then he blinked again, frowning as he realized it still didn't explain anything. "But...why are you leaving him?"

"He kicked me out," Gilbert responded, looking away and growling as usual.

The car stopped moving. Ludwig took his seat belt off. The doors stay locked, and the German stayed quiet, glancing between Italy and Prussia as if confused that Gilbert was even talking to Feliciano.

"Why would he do that?" Italy tilted his head. "What did you do to him?"

"Nothing!" Prussia exclaimed, shifting around until he could pull the hood of his jacket over his head. A jacket Italy had never seen him wear before. Blue with yellow chicks. Something he _must_ have gotten while in Canada. "Everyone likes to fucking accuse me of things I didn't do!"

A little silence stalked through the car as Italy tried to think of what to respond with, trying to figure out what had happened with the clues he had been given. Ludwig got his attention and whispered, "...why is he talking to you?"

With a shrug, Feliciano focused back on Prussia, not willing to let this chance go, even if he didn't understand why Gilbert was suddenly fine with talking to him when one month ago he would have cursed at him and called him useless. "Did he accuse you of something?"

It took a while for Gilbert to respond, like he was thinking, like Feliciano was finally getting through to him. But then a mumbled voice came from the hoodie, "It's none of your business."

And Italy sighed. That was not what he had been hoping for. "You know, you could always call him. Or text him. I'm sure that after what you've been through, he'll listen to whatever you have to say."

He was miffed when Prussia merely scoffed at his advice. "I doubt he'll listen to me."

"Why? What did you do?" Italy blinked at the idea that his brain. It didn't make sense and there was no way it was true, but if he said it, maybe he could get a reaction. "Did you rape him or something?"

It got him a reaction. Instantly. Prussia sat up, the hood falling back, revealing tear tracks on the albino's face. "What the hell? Why does everyone think I'd do that to him? _Gott_, even he -" The man cut off, turning his head, reaching for the door handle, trying to force it open. "_Gottverdammt_, open the door, West!"

As Italy stared, unable to believe he had just seen _tear tracks_ on the face of _Prussia_ of all people, Germany gripped hard on the steering wheel and gave his own ultimatum. "No. Not until you call him."

Feliciano watched as Gilbert pulled away from the door, sitting back against the seat and crossing his arms. "No."

"You need to explain things, _bruder_."

"He won't listen to me!" Prussia snapped. "Everyone has their own assumptions and no one...really...understands..." Hanging his head, Gilbert soon covered his face with his hand.

Germany sighed, unlocked the doors, and stepped outside. Italy followed him, frowning. There had to be someway to fix this. Why did Prussia have to be so stubborn? Why make it this difficult? What kind of misunderstanding had happened? Biting his lower lip, he walked over to his lover, grabbing his hand to get his attention as another thought hit his mind.

"Germany...didn't you clean his room out?"

With a sigh, Ludwig nodded. "This is a problem. He's going to be even more of a mess if he goes inside."

Seeing Ludwig glance to the car, Italy followed the gaze. He smiled when he saw Prussia with his cell phone at his ear. Squeezing Germany's hand, he stood there in the rain and waited for the albino to get out of the car and tell them that everything had been solved. "At least he's trying now. I'm sure this'll fix everything."

"I hope so, Italy."

They didn't wait long. Prussia opened the door and threw his phone at Italy, not looking at either of them when he spoke. "See, I told you he wouldn't answer."

Barely catching the phone in his hands before it could fall in the street, Feliciano felt his eyes widen as he stared at the Prussian. "What? What do you mean he didn't answer? Why wouldn't he answer?"

"I don't know," Gilbert said, shrugging. "Maybe _you_ should try calling him. Like I said, he doesn't want to have anything to do with me."

"Ve...but that's not right...You two love each other. You're supposed to call him, he answers, and the problem is solved. Ve..."

"Heh," Gilbert scoffed. "Things don't always work out in happy endings."

"But-but-but – something isn't adding up!" Italy turned to Germany and started poking at his arm. "Right? Right? Something's wrong!" Since Ludwig wasn't being very helpful, Feliciano turned back to Prussia, holding the RAZR phone out for him. "I can't fix it! You have to fix it! Nothing I say will fix it!"

"So? What am I supposed to do? He won't even _talk_ to me now. He thinks I fucking used him or some shit. Nothing I say is gonna fix _that!" _

Blinking, still trying to fix this problem, wishing Prussia wasn't so stubborn, Italy began toying with the phone. "..ve...? Why would he think that?" Then he blinked again. "Wait, _when_ did you do it with him?"

"Uh...last night?" Prussia said, glaring. "What's it matter?"

With a groan, Italy brought his hand up to his face, slapping himself. "Don't you get it? You just had sex with him and left! No wonder he thinks you used him!"

"Hm? I don't get it. I mean, the month was over today. He should have known that all along. So why didn't he ask me to stay?"

"Probably because he _assumed_ you were going to stay."

Prussia glanced away, scowling into the rain, his usually wild hair causing rain to gather strangely in his hair, dripping down from heavy spikes. "I'm going to the bar. I give up."

Italy felt his eyes widen. "N-no! That's not right! You can't give up! You love him, don't you?"

"Ja, but there's nothing I can do now, is there?" Prussia's hands went into his jacket pocket after throwing the hood back over his head, hiding his downcast eyes. "I left apparently when I should have stayed and now he won't answer his phone because he thinks all I want is a fuck-buddy. I mean, seriously? I already have those! Doesn't he know about the Bad Friend's Trio?"

Italy watched as the albino turned around and began to walk away, muttering to himself as he went. He stared after him for a while, unsure of what to do, unsure of what he _could_ do. He knew he had to fix this. Somehow. He had to make Prussia do something. Right?

"I'm going after him, Ludwig," he said.

Germany nodded. "I think that's a good idea. He's listening to you. I don't know why, but -" Ludwig paused, then hugged him. "I'll put something on the stove. Don't stay out here too long. It isn't good weather for standing around."

"Ve~ I know," Feliciano responded, hugging back before breaking away and chasing after Gilbert, still amazed that Prussia was now listening to _him_.

~!~

He didn't want to deal with this right now. The rain. The cold. The chill in the air. The absolute sick feeling in his stomach. He just wanted to drown himself in alcohol and forget about it all. He was still surprised it had all gone so wrong. How could it all go so wrong? What was he supposed to do? How come Birdie kicked him out like that, refused to let him explain?

He cursed, because he knew the answer. He should have asked. Gilbird and the voice of Fritz...both of them were right. He should have asked to stay. He should have said how he wanted to stay. Why couldn't he just voice what he actually wanted? Why couldn't he simply say how much he wanted to live with Canada?

It pissed him off. It wasn't everyday that something _he_ did pissed him off. So he wanted to find a bar and get as drunk as possible. He wanted to drown himself in the memories. He wanted to pretend he was back in Canada instead of here in Berlin with his brother and -

"Gilbert~" Arms wrapped around him, holding him back, keeping him from walking.

"Ah – what the hell?" he growled, but he couldn't put up much of a fight, even if it was the annoying Italian behind him now. "Get off of me!"

"No~! You need to go back!"

Scowling, he took a step forward, getting even more annoyed by the fact that Italy was able to hold him back. "Go away!" He snapped. "Leave me alone!"

"No, you need to go home. You need to go back to Matthew!" Italy said, refusing to let go, refusing to let him leave, refusing to give up.

Prussia froze. Having Italy say he needed to go home...as if home were back with Birdie... He groaned and brought his hand up to his head, tugging at his hair even underneath the hood. "Why must you torment me?"

"Ve, aren't you doing that to yourself? Think about it. If you were with him right now, you wouldn't be in this predicament."

"Stop saying that!" Gilbert snapped, even as he felt like his heart was going to dive into his stomach. The idea of being back with Matthew. He wanted it _so bad_. "What part of 'he kicked me out' don't you understand?"

"Are you sure he kicked you out, or did you just not want to tell him something important?"

He felt his body tense; it was eerie how close to the truth the little Italian was with that statement. "I -" Cutting himself off, he glared over his shoulder. "Let go of me."

"Are you going home now?"

"_Gottverdammt_, he doesn't want me there! Can't you just leave me alone?"

"That can't be true, though," Italy said. "You're obviously not telling me something."

_You might as well explain it to him._

"Fine," he mumbled, hanging his head. "He didn't stop me from leaving. I never asked to stay, but everyone else always hates having me around for too long so, I figured he'd say something if he was different. But he didn't, and when he saw I was leaving he – he stopped listening to me." Clenching his hands and then putting his palms up to his eyes, trying to push the tears back into their proper place, he forced his voice to stay steady. "_Gott_, why am I such an idiot?"

That was when Italy's hands let him go. "You're not a complete idiot," the Italian said, stepping around to stand in front of him. "You just did something stupid is all. Besides, it's never too late to try to fix something."

Pulling his hands back, Prussia sighed and looked up at the sky, letting the rain hit his face, closing his eyes. "How can I fix it?" he mumbled. "He thinks I used him. Like it was all a way to get to him just for -" he shook his head. It still hurt to know that people actually believed he was that kind of person.

"You leaving didn't help," Italy said after a moment. "If you go back and apologize, then he'll know you went through all the trouble just to apologize. If you used him, you wouldn't do that."

Blinking, Prussia finally looked down at the smiling Italian. "Go back?"

Italy nodded. "Si. You want to be with him again, don't you?"

"Well, yeah, but -" he stopped there, staring at the happy-go-lucky Italian. "Why the hell am I talking to _you_?"

At this, Feliciano simply chuckled and then shrugged. "Luddy and I have been wondering the same thing." He smiled again and for some reason, it wasn't near as annoying as he remembered it being. "So, you're going back?"

Admitting defeat to an Italian was hard, but he sighed and nodded. "Yeah." Glancing to the side, he muttered. "You were right. I shouldn't give up so easily."

He was glad he didn't get to see Feliciano's shocked face, because he was sure the stupid little Italian was just as surprised as he was at the chance of attitude. Maybe it was because Feli reminded him of someone. Maybe it was because he was too focused on Birdie. Whatever the reason, though, he didn't feel too much like yelling and cursing and getting mad at the annoying brunette for always being around his brother. After all, he didn't want West's attention so much anymore. He wanted Birdie.

He wanted to go home.

"Ve ~ Good, so let's go back to the house! It's cold out here!" Italy called out as he started to race back to West's place.

Prussia could only follow, realizing something else had changed. He nearly laughed out loud when he noticed it, too. "Heh...it's not that cold."

~!~

_A/N: Yay for Ita-chan! Right? And look Prussia and Italy are on good terms now! And...and...Prussia doesn't hate the cold anymore! Hey~ Look at how much has changed since the first chapter, right? Character development! Score! One more chapter and an epilogue left. _


	27. Chapter 27

**Author Notes****:**

- Wow. Worried about a happy ending, are we? Have I been that evil?

- Studying Spanish and taking a break to write up this chapter. Then I have three stories to read for English and an essay that's due two days from now. Sleep is for the weak!

- Meanwhile, my sister and I have been role-playing something else. Because we totally finished the One Month role-play sequence a while back. (That includes the sequel(s) planned; yeah, it's long, and it kind of grows into more than just PruCan, but we'll get there when we get there, aye?)

- Random note: I researched coffee/tea preferences around the world. That has got to be one of the most random things I've looked up for a fanfic before. Trying to decide which one Canada prefers is like...I still don't know, hah. Tea except Quebec? Isn't Quebec where it's, like, culturally different from the rest of Canada? Is that true, then? I don't know, research always opens up more questions than answers with me, haha. I did learn that East Germans always preferred coffee and while under the Iron Curtain, it was kind of hard to come by (because Russia/ Soviet Union prefers tea), and they apparently went crazy with coffee consumption once the wall was down. (Or so says this one article) Well, now you've learned something. I've looked up more random cultural things through this fanfic than any actual historical references. God, help me. I think I enjoy researching now.

~!~

One Month

Chapter 27

~!~

"He just wanted a fuck buddy," Matthew said, trying to put venom into his voice, trying to sound angry about it, even as he handed a cup of coffee to his brother.

After the big incident with the world government movement, Matthew had soon acquired a coffee-maker in his house. It was Gilbert's fault, really. The albino didn't much like drinking tea and had insisted, begging and pleading when they were out at a store once. Matthew hadn't switched his preference, though; he still hadn't accepted the taste (even if a portion of his population found it okay). He still much preferred tea over coffee, but it meant America would be happy whenever he came to visit from now on. It certainly wasn't going to be put to use otherwise.

"I knew I didn't like him," America muttered, taking the mug of coffee, only to slam it on the table. "Wait does that mean you – and him...?"

Sinking down in a chair, Canada kept his eyes down, not wanting to face his brother, not wanting to see those eyes widened upon learning that his innocent brother was no-so-innocent anymore. "Oui...we did..." he took a shaky breath. "And then he left."

He heard the chair scraping along the floor as America stood. "So that's all he wanted? I am so going to kill him."

"Wait, no -" Canada said, feeling his eyes widen as he looked back up at his brother. "Don't..."

His brother blinked back at him. "Don't? You don't want me to kill him?" Then he groaned and flopped back in his chair. "C'mon, Mattie, after what he did, I think I'm finally justified in hating his guts!"

"I – I know I shouldn't, but -" He glanced away. "I'd rather pretend it never happened."

After all, even if what they had shared was all an act, for him it had felt real. It had felt so incredibly real, so new, so perfect. Of course it couldn't be true; it couldn't be a happy ending. Happy endings didn't exist in real life, and it had been foolish to believe otherwise.

"Well, I still want to beat him up," America growled. "I could've sworn he might actually care, but I guess..." There was a sigh, followed by Alfred loudly sipping at his coffee. "I'm sorry, Mattie."

He shook his head immediately. "Don't be. It's not your fault." Staring at the cup of tea in front of him, he reached out and ran his finger around the edge. He didn't feel much like drinking anything right now. In fact, it was hard to keep putting up the facade that he didn't care. It hurt. To have Gilbert walk out at the end of the month, as if nothing mattered, as if it had all been an act. He had been so _sure_, so _trusting_. "I fell for it, too."

"So, he just left? No excuse or explanation or anything?"

"Well...he did ask if he could visit again," he nearly choked on the words. "But I was so mad and confused, I thought he just wanted me for -"

"Right..." Al muttered, sipping at his coffee again. America always had been loud, even when eating or drinking something. If England were here, he'd probably be snapping at Alfred to get some table manners. Canada always had been the better one when it came to such things. "Well, uh, maybe he was being legit, like he really wanted to stay and was just waiting for you to ask him or something. I mean, this _is_ the one month which is what y'all agreed on, right?"

He cringed back at the use of the latest American pop culture word. Legit. It was becoming difficult to know when it was correctly used and when it was just thrown in to conversation. To be honest, it didn't even sound correct when Alfred used it here, but Matthew wasn't about to be the one to correct his brother's language. That was Arthur's job. Even if Arthur wasn't here now.

If he wasn't so focused on what had recently happened, Matthew might have questioned why Al had come alone. As far as he knew, Arthur was still keeping an eye on America, because even for a country being shot was a big deal. Still, Alfred was here now, and Arthur wasn't, so he must be fine. Besides, Mattie was a little preoccupied to be worrying about his brother right now.

"We did agree on one month, but...if he wanted to stay I think he would have done so without needing permission." He sighed.

"I guess," Al muttered. "He is kind of an idiot, though."

When America laughed, Matthew looked up to glare before realizing what he was doing. Even if he was angry at Gilbert for leaving, he didn't like to hear others making fun of him. Especially not his brother, who was notorious for being the world's loud-mouthed idiot in his own way.

"He tried to call earlier," he found himself saying.

America thankfully dropped the laugh and turned a serious face to him. "Well, if he calls again, let me answer. Then I can yell at him for you!"

Canada sighed, taking his phone out of his pocket and setting it on the table between them. "All right. Just don't try to hurt him or anything."

America huffed. "I still wanna beat him up, Mattie. You can't just let him get away with that!"

He tensed. "I can, and I will." He turned a glare to his brother, trying to make himself believe his own words. "You need to learn to brush things off, Alfred."

"Brush things off?" America gaped. "But this is a big deal, bro!"

"No...it...it's not..."

He didn't want to cry. He didn't want to show weakness. He wanted to be stronger than this. Gilbert would want him to be strong, but... He could feel the tears taking over, as if the very reminder of Gilbert's absence was enough to push him over the edge. Against his wishes, water began to leak from his eyelids, and he choked on a breath, biting his lip.

Alfred's hand was on his shoulder. He hadn't even heard his brother stand up. "Yeah..." Al said. "I'm gonna call him."

Looking down, Canada felt himself give in to his brother. Alfred wanted to help. He should let him. With a sigh, he mumbled, "All right. His number's in my phone."

Alfred was quick about it. The hand left his shoulder and he soon heard the clicks of keys being pressed. America grumbled something about how his phone was stupid and where-the-hell was the call button, but then the call was in progress and even Canada could hear the sound indicating that Prussia's phone was ringing.

Of course, through all his button-mashing, America had accidentally thrown the phone into speaker-phone mode, and Matthew could hear Prussia's voice when the other end picked up. "Birdie?"

A sharp stab hit his heart and he felt like he was going to be sick. The nickname. Why was Gilbert still using that nickname? Of course, Matthew didn't say anything. He couldn't say anything. There was a lump in his throat and America was quick on the response in the first place.

"...what? Birdie?" But the confusion in Alfred's voice immediately disintegrated in the form of anger. "You! You should be grateful you're not dead right now!"

"Ah, shit! Why are you calling?"

"I'm calling because you messed with the wrong nation! I thought you actually cared for him, too!"

"Hey! I do care!"

Matthew reached up to cover his ears. He didn't want to hear Gilbert's voice. He didn't want to be pulled in to believing him. He didn't want to fall apart in front of his brother. It was just...

"Obviously, you don't!" America growled. "I told you, it would scare him if you pulled that!"

Even with his hands over his ears, he could still make out Prussia's indignant response. "I didn't _pull_ anything!"

And then Al's sarcasm, "Oh, right, that makes sense. Then tell me why you're wherever-the-hell you are and not here!"

Wanting to hear the answer clearly, Canada dropped his arms and looked up. Tears were on the verge of breaking free. Right on the edge. But, still, he wanted to know _why_ Gil had done the unthinkable. He wanted to know _why_ the man he loved walked out on him like that. _Why_ did he leave?

"Th-that's because...I...he..." Both America and Canada blinked upon hearing Prussia's stuttering and mumbling. It was so out of character. So...not an answer. "Fuck you, I don't know," Gilbert growled back.

America huffed. "Then tell me why the hell you felt the need to use my brother like that!"

"I didn't! Shit! Stop assuming I'm like that!" Prussia's voice cracked. He was upset. Upset? "Just because I sleep around a lot more than you doesn't mean I use people. Besides, if he wanted me to stay, all he had to do was tell me."

_Tell you? I had to tell you? It wasn't obvious? _

He gaped when his brother echoed his own thoughts. "Tell you? It was obvious he wanted you to stay! Why do you think he would do that with you if he didn't?"

"I-I don't know! Because no one's ever..." There was a pause on the other end. And then a lot of air, like a breath being let out. "Look, can I talk to him?"

Matthew was reaching for the phone the minute the words came through. But America wasn't going to make it that easy. "No, you can't talk to him! Why would you think I would let you talk to him?"

"Al..." Canada whispered, trying to get his brother's attention, but not sure he had the voice to make himself heard.

"Tch. Fine then," Prussia scoffed. "I'm gonna hang up." He sounded disappointed. Matthew could almost imagine the albino leaning against a wall in some house, hand in his pocket, feet kicking at the carpet or rug or something within reach. "Why the hell did you call me, anyway?"

The very image in his mind was making Matthew restless. He felt his eyebrows lower, and he forced his voice to be strong. "Al!" Finally, he had his brother's attention, and he gestured for the phone to be handed over.

Still, America hesitated, sighing into the phone. "Give me one good reason why I should let you talk to him. And make it a good one."

Canada glared at his brother, expecting Prussia to stumble his way through this one, or to hang up and give up. But to his surprise, he was quick to answer. "Because even if you don't, I'm on my way back across the ocean so I can talk to him personally."

There was a lump in his throat. Prussia was willing to cross the ocean _again_ to come see him. Him. Without any idea of whether or not Matthew would take him back. Just to talk if he had to. True, he was using Germany's money to do it, but the fact that Prussia would _go out of his own way_ just to talk...

"Alfred...give me the phone..."

America stared at him, his eyes curious, wondering why, but as Canada glared at him Alfred eventually sighed and gave in. "All right, you win."

The phone passed hands and Matthew immediately turned it off of speaker-phone and put it up to his ear. "Hello? Gil?"

"Birdie!" He could hear Gilbert breathing heavy, as if he were moving around in circles or pacing back and forth. "Look I – I think there was a misunderstanding."

_Dieu, I want it to be true. I want to believe you. I want you to come home and I want this to work. But...you left me, Gilbert. You took the plane home, and you left me. _

"I...I don't think so."

"H-huh? You what? But Birdie, I..."

His hand clenched into a fist and he caught America smirking out of the corner of his eye. "I understand perfectly. You _used_ me, simple as that."

_Defend yourself. Defend it like you mean it. Show me how much you really do care. Please, don't give up and leave this time._

"No, I wouldn't do that damn it! Not after all the temptations you put me through... Why would I wait that long if all I wanted was to fuck?"

He felt his eyes widen at Gil's angry answer, hearing the voice crack once again. He really _was_ upset about that accusation. "I – I don't know. Maybe because you...wait...temptations? I don't remember ever tempting you to do anything."

A groan. "...it wasn't on purpose, Birdie. You're just so..." Prussia cleared his throat. "Anyway, what were you saying?"

"I – uhm – uh -" He shook his head, finding it hard to focus and think now that he was talking with Gilbert again. Now that he had actually flustered the albino into stuttering and dropping his sentences. "I was saying that you could have easily waited until the end of the month to be over. I mean, it is a pretty weird coincidence that we did it the night before you had to leave..."

"Ah – that's just – shit..." Prussia groaned again. When his voice came back it was quiet, whispered, _sad_. "_Verdammt_, that's not..."

Chewing his bottom lip, Canada found himself replaying that night, feeling a hot blush fill his face. "But, you did ask me if I wanted to stop..."

"_Ja_...I did..." Gilbert almost sounded hopeful there as if he were on the edge of giving up.

"A-and it did help me sleep..." He slumped back in his chair, putting a hand to his head because this whole ordeal was making his emotions and thoughts run through him in crazy patterns. "Gil, I just don't know what I'm supposed to do."

"Well, I want to -"

_Good. Tell me what you want. That'll be a clue. What do you say you want? What do you actually want? Tell me so I can figure out what you really mean._

After a pause, Gilbert continued, "No, it's whatever _you_ want, Birdie. At this point...I'll just do whatever you want. Stay here or come back. I just want you to know, it's all up to you. And all you ever have to do is tell me what you want."

A different feeling hit his heart. A warmth. Was Gilbert telling the truth here? Or was he making things up just to sound sweet?

"Gil...do you really mean that?" He whispered it into the phone.

But Prussia heard it; he always heard Canada. "_Ja_...I always mean what I say."

That was it. The phrase that won him over. The phrase he had said several times since their first meeting. It was as if he were saying his word was his bond. As if he never backed down from what he told someone. It meant everything.

The tears were coming out now, but they weren't because he was sad. It was emotional overload. So much had happened. So much in the span of such a short amount of time. "Th-Then hurry up and come back to me!" He shouted into the phone, hanging it up the minute he was finished, fighting the urge to laugh.

Gil was coming back. He meant it. He always meant what he said. _He was coming back..._

America was livid. "Why did you say that?"

Looking to his brother, he lifted an arm and wiped the tears away, a little annoyed that they kept forming. Happiness was too hard to control. "I don't think he really used me."

"But, Mattie! He left the day after, didn't he? How could he be innocent?"

It was too difficult to explain things. It was a feeling. But his feelings had betrayed him before. Letting out a breath, he looked away. "I don't know, but I think he deserves another chance."

"Whatever, bro," Alfred growled. "Do you want me to go with you to the airport or what?"

He quickly shook his head. "I don't think so. I mean, I'm not even one-hundred percent sure he's coming back."

Al growled again. "If he comes back, I'm kicking his ass."

"Al," Canada said with a sigh. "I'm the one who told him to come back, and he said he would do whatever I wanted."

America sneered. Alfred was not giving up this argument easily. "You know he's like a man whore over there, right? He's probably never had a real relationship."

"Well, I mean, he..." Chewing the inside of his cheek, Matthew allowed the memories to come back. "You weren't there," he whispered. "When we were trapped. He did everything he could to make them ignore me and just go after him."

Alfred tilted his head. "But...that doesn't sound like him at all..." He waved his hand in the air. "He was probably just being the attention whore he always is..."

Canada shook his hand yet again. "No. It was more than that. Even when I told him to stop, he would always just smile and tell me everything would be fine."

_That's why I love him. Not only was he willing to make himself the target instead of me, but he always wanted me to be optimistic. He did everything he could to keep me optimistic, even though I was such a whiny pain._

"America!" The British shout echoed through the house along with the front door slamming open.

He could see Alfred flinch, and then he knew. Al wasn't okay; he had skipped out on his recovery in order to come be the brother he so very rarely was... When England appeared in the kitchen, America put on his own grin. "Hey, Iggy...eh heh...why are you here?"

Stomping over to Alfred, Arthur looked and sounded everything like a worried mother. "I should be asking you that! Why aren't you in bed?" Glancing over, Arthur finally noticed that Matthew was in the room, and he frowned. "What's going on here?"

Crossing his arms, America gladly welcomed the subject change. "Prussia left him. He may be coming back and I'm gonna kick his ass if he does."

England blinked, staring at the both of them for a moment, piecing things together, not requiring much to understand the whole picture. Arthur was good at reading between the lines like that, and about not commenting on it either. "America, it's not good for you to get to excited about something, especially if it's something you know nothing about."

Matthew smiled at Arthur, but Alfred was quick to whine. "Oh, c'mon, Iggy, I'm fine."

Arthur's arms crossed and he stood his ground, staring America down with narrowed eyes. "Either you need to lay down, or you can explain to me why you're going to 'kick Prussia's ass' if he comes back."

"The month was over," Matthew decided to speak up, not particularly liking it when people had conversations over his head.

"Yeah! He took Mattie's innocence and then left!" Al said, his voice raising. "Of course I have to kick his ass now!"

Arthur blinked, as if the idea had not occurred to him. "Took his...? Oh..." He closed his eyes and sighed. "This is a problem."

"Yeah!" Al exclaimed, punching the air. "With an easy solution: I kick his ass!"

But that was when Arthur shook his head. "No, you are not allowed to fight, and you will not need to. This is Matthew's problem, and he'll solve it on his own."

Alfred was clearly shocked – and not happy at all. "What? But, c'mon, I'm his big bro! I'm supposed to help when stuff like this happens."

"Now you listen here," Arthur snapped, pointing his finger at the pointing American. "This is something you literally _cannot _decide for him! He has to figure out if he really is in love with him on his own."

"But -"

This time, Matthew took a breath and stood up for himself. He was tired of hearing the other two talk about whether or not he needed help. "Al. Go home."

Alfred turned wide eyes to him. "What? But Mattie -!"

Canada set his arms on the table and met the blue eyes of his brother, staring straight at him and refusing to back down. Make a choice and never back down. Something Prussia had taught him. "I can handle this. I will meet him at the airport. Alone. You need to rest. We all know your economy isn't doing great right now, and the head wound is not going to make matters any easier." He narrowed his eyes and continued to meet the surprised stare of his brother. "Go home."

Even though Alfred was staring, amazement and shock written all over his face, Matthew could see Arthur smiling and nodding out of the corner of his eye. America really did need to get some rest. And Canada really could handle himself. Besides, Alfred had a distinct bias against Prussia to begin with, so it wouldn't be fair to Gilbert to have Al waiting with Matthew at the airport. If Canada _wasn't_ alone, then he wouldn't get a chance to let the truth come out.

It was better this way. "Thank you for coming over, Al." He took a breath and stood up, not letting his confidence leave him. "But I can handle it from here."

America stared at him for a moment longer, then he stood up and stretched his arms, grinning. "All right then. Whatever you want, Mattie." Alfred walked over and gave him a pat on the back. "Call me anytime."

Arthur didn't say much, even though his gaze spoke volumes. Gratitude. For getting Al to go home. Worry. About this issue with Prussia. Matthew gave him a shrug and his best smile, and with a nod, Arthur turned to leave as well...or got his arm grabbed by Alfred and was forced to leave with him.

Once he was alone again, Matthew flopped down in his chair. The polar bear of the house crawled into the room, sitting at the foot of his chair. "Is the bird coming back?"

Matthew blinked, then found himself roaring with laughter. Were Gilbird and Kumajiro friends now? Did the polar bear really miss the yellow chick? Strange. That even their pets had come to like each other over the month together.

He managed to take a breath between his laughs and grin. "Yeah. He'll be back. They'll both be back."

~!~

Now that he was actually in the airport, it was taking forever for the flight to land. After rushing over, he had searched out all the flights from Berlin to here, assuming Prussia would be taking the same flight path as before. Once he found the one that Gilbert had to be on, he sat in the waiting area.

At first, he sat still, trying to be patience. But the anxiety and worry kept building and he started to second guess himself. He stood up, walked over to the giant windows, looking outside at the sky, wondering when the lovable albino would be here. Wondering where he was. Wondering what he was doing. Wondering if he really _was_ coming back...

It would be all he needed. At this point, all he needed was for Gilbert to show up. Why would anyone go through so much trouble to mend a relationship if all he wanted was a good fuck? It didn't make sense with anything else the albino had done. If Gilbert showed up, then it was real. Then he meant it.

All he needed was to see the crazy silver hair and the gleaming red eyes, the wide grin. The wait was killing him. He wanted to know _now_. He wanted to see him _now_. He -

Suddenly, he noticed the airport staff moving to this area. Setting things up. Getting ready for the landing. His heart beat began to speed up in pure anticipation. From out the window, he could watch the plane land. He watched it roll to the correct position. He stared at the windows, wondering where Gilbert would be sitting, hoping he was there in the first place.

Sweat began to form in his palms as he continued to wait. Turning his eyes to the exit, he watched and waited. Waiting, waiting, waiting. The time was moving way too slow. He could barely breathe.

When people began to start exiting, when the flock of passengers began to enter the area and leave, that was when his heart beat sped up to a ridiculous pace. It became hard to breath. All he needed was one thing. One sign. One person. Where _was_ he?

Matthew spotted the yellow chick first. It chirped something, flying back into the crowd of people, and then Matthew felt his heart stop; he felt his legs tremble, felt his breath catch. Silver hair, red eyes, and a wide grin as Gilbert Beilschmidt pulled away from the crowd, a single duffel bag around his shoulder. No hat or sunglasses this time. Just him. Him and the blue hoodie Canada had bought for him, opened to reveal a black shirt with the typical words "I am awesome."

He couldn't move as the Prussian stepped closer. He couldn't even call out, but he was sure the man had seen him. He felt his mouth go dry when Gil walked up to him, standing so close and yet so far, his grin dropping. Before Matthew could panic, Gilbert grabbed his hand, his touch gentle as he brought the hand to his lips, lightly kissing it.

Then he spoke. In terrible, mangled, horrendous French. "_Enchanté__, mademoiselle." _And an absolutely cliché movie line of all things, too...that didn't even make sense...

It made Matthew start to laugh, tearing his hand away to press it against his stomach, finding the whole situation quite hilarious, especially when Prussia began to blush, obviously embarrassed. "Do you even know what that means?"

"No," Gilbert murmured, pouting his lips out. "Fucking French..."

Canada smiled up at him, all doubts erased in a simple moment. "But I'm glad...that you tried to do something sweet for me." He leaned forward and pecked him on the cheek. "It was cute."

Prussia let out a groan, then whined. "It wasn't supposed to be cute. I was supposed to be charming. It always works in the movies."

Shaking his head, Matthew had to bite back laughter again. Of course he was right about Gilbert getting his idea from a movie line. "You have your own charm, Gil," he said, unable to keep a straight face as he giggled. "But not with French, okay?"

Prussia proceeded to run his hand through his hair, then sigh. "Whatever. I guess I'm just an idiot."

"But you're _my_ idiot," Matthew said, the words slipping through before he could even remember thinking them.

Gilbert blinked, red eyes staring at him. Feeling his face blush and unable to handle the awkwardness in the current situation, Canada jumped forward again. So much had changed about him over this month. He was jumping forward and being proactive instead of reactive. Not all the time, but enough to notice the difference.

He pressed lips to Prussia's, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him closer. Delighted to find Gil quick on the response, quick to take over and dominate the kiss even if Matthew had been the one to start it. After all, when words failed...it was up to their actions. And actions spoke louder anyway.

When they broke apart, Matthew breathed heavy and grinned. "Let's go home."

"Home..." Gilbert echoed, his eyes going slightly distant for a moment, as if the word meant more than Canada would ever understand. Then the grin came back. "Yeah, you can make pancakes and I'll -"

When Prussia cut off, Canada stepped back and tilted his head. "You'll what?"

Gil turned his head, looking away, and his next words were mumbled under his breath but still audible. "...take you ice-skating."

At first, Matthew stared in shock, not having expected it. But then his face exploded with a grin and he found himself tugging Prussia into a huge hug, holding on to him tightly in his excitement. "You remembered!"

"Tch. Of course I remembered. It was a promise, wasn't it?"

Canada laughed, feeling the water hit his eyes again. Not because he was sad or weak, but because he was _so happy_. He had imagined the worst...and gotten the best. There was nothing else he could ask for. Gil was back here. He had come back. To stay.

After a moment, he pulled back, catching Prussia's light blush, which only caused him to smile more. Reaching out, he took hold of one of Gilbert's pale hands and said. "Oui. Now let's go home."

~!~

_A/N: Ahjfdklfjkdlfjkdljfakdjfla...fluffy bunnies...okay...just the epilogue left, and I bet you can guess what it is, aye? Also, keep an eye out for the sequel. New characters. More drama. More fun times. More emotional roller coasters, too, hopefully. Oh, wow, I can't believe I'm pretty much finished with this. It's been so long since I finished a multi-chapter story... So long..._

_~Thank you for all the support/reviews/alerts/favorites~ I appreciate everything and love you all very much!~_

_~Reda_


	28. Epilogue

**Author Notes****:**

-Well here it is. We're finally at the end. It's been 8 years since I finished a novel-length work. Yes, that long. I can't believe I actually did it. Thank you for all the support throughout this piece, and I hope to see you all in the sequel!

-Also, this is probably a bit silly and a little short, but it was fun. :)

~!~

One Month

Epilogue

~!~

Prussia stared out at the ice and cringed back. Even if he had promised, he was regretting it and they hadn't even started anything yet. First off, it was freezing as hell. (Or as cold as hell was hot, if he wanted to be technical). Secondly, they were about to go onto the ice..._on purpose_! Even buried underneath layers of warm clothing (because what the hell a serious Canadian winter was...cold as fuck! - which wasn't technically cold, either, but whatever). Thirdly, he was having flashbacks of old nightmares and memories of when he was too young to technically remember things...but there was a lot of thought and fear of _drowning_ – _under the ice_. Which was as frightening as being an atheist and learning that God really did exist...

"Gil? Something wrong?"

Trying to gulp down his absurd fear, he turned to Canada and gave his typical grin, even though he could feel it twitching. "N-No, I'm f-fine." He would chalk the stuttering down to the fact that it was freezing.

To his dismay, Matthew had learned how to read through him and was frowning, the little spark of excitement slowly dying. "Is it really that -"

"Don't say it!" He snapped, feeling his face heat as he reached up to tug the beanie down over his eyes. "_Verdammt_, I'm too awesome to be scared of a little ice."

He could feel Birdie grab his hands and then push the beanie back away from his eyes so they could lock gazes. The stupid blush was still on his face; he could feel it right over his nose – probably made even more obvious because it was so cold out here. It didn't help matters to see his Birdie smiling.

"It's okay, Gil. We all have our fears." A peck to the cheek and Prussia felt his face heat up more, even as his heart began to calm down. "Don't worry. I'm here, and I do this all the time."

The fact that they weren't alone in the park didn't make the whole situation any better. Scared of a little ice. No, terrified, really, because of something in his past that was all hazy and like a too-real-nightmare. Children were skating on the ice. _Children_. They weren't scared out of the minds. They weren't worried about the ice breaking underneath them, about falling in the center of the lake, about being unable to come back up for air, about a freezing darkness that enclosed around...

He shivered. "Hey, Birdie, I know I promised but..."

The look Canada gave him. The sad but slowly accepting. The mask hiding his disappointment. "Oh, I guess, if you-"

It made him steel his nerves and quit being such a crybaby. _After all, it's just a little ice, right? _"Never mind, you're gonna help me get this shit on, right?" He said, lifting the skates and forcing a grin.

Birdie looked a little confused at first, but he soon smiled and nodded. "Oui." Holding his hand, Matthew soon led him to a bench. "Sit down."

Prussia laughed as he followed the order. "Kesese ~ Getting demanding on me, Birdie?"

"Don't even start, Gil," Canada responded, being surprisingly quick on his comeback.

Supposedly hanging around with Gilbert was enough to make anyone gain a quick tongue. He didn't know; that's just what his friends sometimes said. Francis in particular. He smirked, letting his eyes wander around the park scene, taking in the snow covered landscape and the people. _Gott_ but he hadn't expected to see so many people out in such cold weather. Though he did suppose it was nice minus the cold, what with the sky looking so blue and the sun showing itself even if it wasn't warm enough to melt the ice.

When he brought his eyes back to the blond-haired Canadian, he found himself forgiving the man his crazy request. Ice skating. Why on earth had he ever agreed to do something so foolhardy? Then again, watching his lover work the skates onto Gil's feet and then look up with the most excited smile...he had to smile back. _That_ was why he did crazy things. To make his Birdie smile like that. At him. Because of him.

"The things I do for you," he muttered to himself, glad to see that Canada hadn't picked up on it.

As his lover sat down on the bench beside him, working to get his own skates on, Gilbert looked out at the frozen lake again. He found his eyes most especially watching a couple with a little girl. Watching as they were showing the child how to skate...and then letting her go on the ice on her own. She fell, of course, bursting into tears, only to be picked up, reassured, and they would repeat the process. Each time she seemed to get steadily better – and would give less and less complaints about falling.

Still, Prussia found himself wincing. "You're not gonna make me go alone, are you?"

Turning to his Birdie when he got no response, he was quite devastated to see a little smirk and spark of amusement in those blue-violet eyes. "Now, Gil, how are you supposed to learn otherwise?"

"I don't want to learn!" He snapped before he could think, grimacing the moment he heard the tone in his voice echo back at him.

His Birdie didn't look at him, turning to the frozen lake, mouth closed but eyes watching the scenes of couples and families and even the single ones lost in their own excitement. It was almost like the whole town was out here at the park today. Even the older ones, though they sat on other benches or were busy walking dogs – who of course didn't care about the snow. Gil only wished he could be one of _them_ now. If he could be a mortal and be old and not have to worry about -

"Come on, Gil." Canada's voice and then a hand tugging him to his feet had him confused...and then startled.

Apparently, even after being snapped at, Birdie wasn't going to quit. For his part, Gilbert let himself get pulled to his feet, feeling so incredibly awkward trying to stand with these skates on. If Gilbird was here – the lucky bird had stayed home, not one to like the cold, either – he was sure the bird would be laughing at him. Or yelling at him for snapping so at Canada.

"Birdie, I -"

And then he was shocked senseless. Canada's lips touched his own, catching him with his mouth open and setting a hand behind his head as if to keep him there. Not that Prussia would back away from a kiss, even if he wasn't dominating it. If this was Matthew's way of convincing him, then the man knew exactly what he was doing.

Pulling back, Canada met his eyes, letting him see the twinkle behind the nation's gaze. "You promised, but I'll promise more than a kiss if you just _try. _For me, Gil?"

_Verdammt, but you know just what to do, don't you?_

He groaned, but nodded his head. "_Ja_, let's get this over with."

His Birdie smiled then, the smile that made everything worth it, grabbing his hand and turning around to lead him to the ice. The dreaded ice. The lake frozen over. With every step closer, he felt like he was getting closer to his death bed. In his memories, he could almost see the fighting. He remembered it was against the Russians. Something from his childhood. Trapped on a large frozen lake when the ice began to crack...when everything went wrong...

A jolt brought him back to the present and he blinked, finding his feet no longer on solid ground. Immediately, he was clinging to Canada, as they moved forward, as he was _pushed_ forward. He could hear Birdie laughing at him, and it made his face blush, though a big part of him didn't care because he was _moving_ on _ice_ going _closer to the center_. Balance was difficult; he wanted nothing more than to crouch down and make it stop, but Canada kept pulling him along.

"Relax, Gil, it's safe. Trust me."

Matthew's words were reminiscent of a different time, of a moment when Gilbert had said something similar to Canada when he had gotten his lover to give in to something _he_ wanted to do. Whether or not Birdie chose those words on purpose, it had an effect on Prussia. It made him stand taller – a little wobbly but forcing himself to feel more confident if anything. He stopped completely leaning on Canada for support, opting instead to cling to the offered arm alone.

The truth was, he didn't feel any safer, wanting to shut his eyes as Matthew began to skate him around. "Come on. Training wheels have to come off sometime."

He shook his head vehemently. "N-no they don't! This is just awesome enough, _ja_?"

Before he could complain further, Matthew pried out of his grip and spun to get behind him. Gloved hands went to either side of his waist and started to guide him around the frozen lake. He wasn't sure what to do with his hands, falling back on the natural reaction, holding his arms around to either side, waving them around as he tried to keep his balance. Eyes widened and he grit his teeth, now forced to go wherever his Birdie guided; he hadn't even picked his feet up, yet, determined to fight this whole skating idea.

"All right. I'm letting go now."

He yelped. "No, wait, Birdie!"

And then the hands were gone. The training wheels off. He heard Matthew's light chuckle behind him and he felt like a little child losing control on their first bike ride. Besides the fact that a flash of his memory cracked into his mind, of the ice cracking and so many people falling, drowning... he also had no idea how to steer. No idea how to move. No idea what to do besides keep going forward.

"Not awesome! Not awesome! Not awesome!"

He supposed he should consider himself lucky to have run off the side into a snow bank. Even if it was freezing, made his face feel like he had been staring into a freezer for too long. Groaning as he pulled himself out of the snow, he was shocked once again to discover that Birdie hadn't chased him down.

And there was a kid looking down at him, the blond pig-tailed girl he remembered watching earlier. She smiled down at him, her hands behind her back. "It hurts worst the first time."

He blinked, finding himself sitting down in the snow and ice, stretching his legs out. "Ah – good to know?"

She giggled, blue eyes somewhat sparkling against the white all around her. "Your accent's funny."

He grinned. "That's 'cause I'm actually Pru – uh – German. I'm actually German." He only changed his mind because it was a kid, and a cute girl who was trying to be helpful and friendly...and there was no way someone her age would know what a Prussian was – and that would bring more questions than he cared to answer.

To his delight, her eyes widened. "Whoa ~ That's cool. You're a immi – imminigrant?"

"Immigrant," he corrected, still grinning. "And, yeah, sort of, I guess."

Glancing behind the girl, who had started to move her feet, skating at the very edge of the ice, awkwardly keeping balance, he noticed Canada talking to the parents...while skating around. Graceful as all get out. Every movement perfect, as if he were an angel on the ice. Just watching him made Gilbert realize how ridiculous he must have looked out there. Well, he was perfectly happy sitting right here, even if it meant he was left talking to the child while Birdie chatted with the adults.

"Why do you have red eyes?"

He grimaced at the question, used to wearing something over his eyes whenever he went outside to meet general public. Sunglasses were the most common thing nowadays. Hats had been great at concealing the albinism in early years. Kids usually were the worst about being curious when they shouldn't be, asking questions they shouldn't be; granted, Prussia had gotten used to such questions over the years from the younger folk, even if it had been a long time.

Before he could actually answer, though, the parents skated over to their area, the blond-haired mother getting just behind the little girl. "Sara, you know better than to bother strangers."

"Aw, I didn't mean to, mummy. I was just curious. I saw someone else the other day, too, but she didn't hear me when I asked..."

Interesting. Another albino somewhere nearby? Gilbert thought his condition was rather rare for that to happen, but -

"Oh child, there was no girl the other day. It was just your imagination."

"Was too! I saw her! She was about my age, too, but she disappeared before I could talk to her!" The girl huffed and then the mother looked over at Gilbert, giving a nod and sigh as if trying to apologize for her daughter's behavior.

Before Prussia could even comment, Canada skated up, grinning as he crouched down beside him. "Gil, this is Mr. and Mrs. Clark and their daughter, Sara, who you've met." When Prussia raised an eyebrow at Birdie, Matthew continued. "They've invited us to have tea."

The woman must have noticed Gilbert's disgusted face because she quickly added. "Or coffee, if you would prefer."

"_Ja_," he said, finally getting a word in before someone else could interrupt. Something he wasn't exactly accustomed to. He grinned. "Coffee for sure. Got kinda sick of tea a long time ago. Kesese~"

Though the couple would have no idea what he was referring to, Matthew did send him a little warning glance. Ah, yes, keep the nation thing a secret, but still visit with the people. _Whatever you want, Birdie._

He wasn't too keen on spending the rest of the afternoon with common people and being unable to speak of his awesomeness as a Prussian, but if Birdie wanted to fulfill his little quota of civilian visits, then he supposed he should go along for the ride. Besides, at least the little one was interesting. He'd always much preferred the children. At least after his years raising Ludwig.

"Guess we're done with the ice-skating?" He grinned, looking up at Matthew.

With a roll of his eyes, Canada responded, sliding off the ice into the snow with a too-graceful-to-be-real step. "Guess so," he said, reaching a hand out to help Prussia to his feet. "You got off lucky this time."

"Kesese~ I'll make it up to you later," he replied, taking the hand and getting awkwardly to his feet.

There was a glint in his Birdie's eyes when he responded. "Yeah, you will." A grin. "After all, we have all season, don't we?" Prussia had the sense that his little innocent Canadian was going to find ways to prove his first impressions all wrong, and it sent a little excitement running through his veins just at the ideas of what Matthew could come up with to make him pay for cutting the ice-skating short. All season, indeed...

~!~

_A/N: Well, that's it. I feel like that was terrible, but eh – I always feel like it's terrible. XD I bet it went somewhere you didn't expect! Random OC family, like wut? But guess what! Everything has a purpose, haha ~ Why the girl? Because...well...consider it foreshadowing if you read the sequel. Also Kairi has a few words:_

_-Kairi's list of "plot holes": _

_1)Germany and Italy took like, two minutes to go back to normal_

_2)America's head wound will never heal because Iggy keeps giving in_

_3)Spain is yandere_

_4)Romano doesn't care_

_5)There's a gun in their house _

_6)Guy cut in half never got cleaned up_

_7)France is captured – nobody cares_

_8)Russia's still capturing people – probably the Nordics_

_**Historical References:**_

_Battle on the Ice: Spring 1242 – Teutonic Knights battled Russians on a frozen lake – and at a disastrous loss, just to give some reasoning to Prussia's fear and chopped memories here. __According to contemporary Russian chronicles, after hours of hand-to-hand fighting, Alexander (Russian Prince) ordered the left and right wings of his archers to enter the battle. The knights by that time were exhausted from the constant struggle on the slippery surface of the frozen lake. The Crusaders started to retreat in disarray deeper onto the ice, and the appearance of the fresh Russian __c__avalry made them run for their lives. When the knights attempted to rally at the far side of the lake, the thin ice began to give way under the weight of their heavy armour, and many knights drowned. _

_~Thanks to EVERYONE who gave a review/alert/favorite/etc and look out for the sequel "One Season" (ah hah, the ending line makes sense now, doesn't it?)~_

_-Oh, and there's a poll on my profile, because I do plan to work on this sequel, but I have pushed other things to the side for a while, so if you want me to keep focusing on the PruCan or if you want a focus on something else, then let me know!_

_~Reda_

_THE END  
_


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